


Neverland

by Black_Zora



Category: Lost Boys (1987)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Revenge, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Zora/pseuds/Black_Zora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marko never dies in the cave. Instead, Sam and the Frogs fall into the hands of the vampires. David is no longer in for games, though Max is still in for his family plans … in which David and the Boys want no part whatsoever. Who's gonna catch his dreams, and who's gonna be caught by his nightmares?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Lost Boys, sadly, do not belong to me. No money is being made with this. All rights go to their respective owners.

Something was terribly wrong. There were voices in his head, and they did not belong to his brothers. There were feelings which were not theirs, feelings of hatred and bloodthirstiness, wafting through him like a cloud of suffocating smoke. Then a scream, piercing, high-pitched, and full of agony. The scream _was_ theirs, as was the gush of wind that followed when the three bodies hanging next to David went plummeting down, as was the blood which was suddenly everywhere, rich scented, vampiric blood smelling strongly of Marko.

David's eyes flew open. He saw three mortal boys, one of whom he recognized as Michael's little brother, the other two as the obnoxious little beasties running the comic bookshop at the Boardwalk. All three were covered in red. Marko was writhing on the ground, bathed in his own blood, a wooden stake protruding from his chest.

David plunged down with a roar of fury. "You're dead meat!"

The mortals went scrambling away from him, yelling in terror, and made off to the entrance of the cave with all the speed they could muster – which wasn't much.

'Dwayne!'David commanded his brother silently at his side, and they both took off in pursuit. Paul stayed behind, clutching Marko with wide and fearful eyes, the wounded vampire still howling in agony.

They could have grabbed the children right away, they were so slow and clumsy … But David was burning with wrath and wanted to torment them, so he allowed them the illusion that there still was a chance of escape. Only as they were almost at the entrance did he grab one boy's ankle. He had caught Michael's little brother _–_ Sam, if his anger-clouded brain remembered correctly. The boy was kicking at him and screaming his lungs out in fear of death, but David's grip was unyielding. He felt sorely tempted to grip even harder, hard enough to make bones crack. The little rat tried to draw him out into the sun, and David gave in to the temptation, hearing an immensely satisfying snap as he felt the boy's ankle break under his fingers. Sam gave a shocked squeal, then gasped and choked with pain. David felt his lips quirk in a cruel smile as he pulled the boy back by his broken limb, enjoying the obvious agony he caused.

Meanwhile, Dwayne had managed to snatch the other two little meanies, holding them in a headlock while they were kicking and cursing at him, rabid with fury and anguish.

David clutched Sam by the scruff of the neck and took off at highest possible speed, Dwayne following in tow. As soon as they were back at their lair, Sam was thrown carelessly to the floor. He uttered a pained and pitiful whimper.

"Don't move!" David hissed at him. "Or I gut you."

Then he knelt down hurriedly by his wounded brother's side.

Marko was dying, there was no denying it. His skin was not only ashen, but had already begun to crumble like dry parchment. There was almost no blood left in him, and he had barely the strength to keep his eyes open. Paul had, apparently, not chanced to remove the stake for fear of injuring him even further.

"I gave him as much of my blood as I dared," Paul whispered, looking both scared and drained. "But it did no good. It just kept seeping out of him again."

"We have to remove the stake. Hold him fast, both of you." David nodded to Paul and Dwayne, who dutifully complied, but not ere Dwayne had whispered something to the Frogs that made the boys blanch.

"I'm sorry, brother," David said, putting a booted foot on Marko's abdomen. He grabbed the stake with both hands and yanked it out. It made a sickeningly wet sound, which was instantly drowned by a blood-curdling shriek of pain.

"I'm sorry," David repeated, kneeling down again and taking hold of one of Marko's withered hands. They looked as if they belonged to a methuselah. "You'll heal … Hold on. Just a little longer … Hold on."

Marko looked at him through half-closed eyes which were brimming with pain.

"David …?" His voice was barely audible.

"Yes, it's me," David answered in a soothing tone while wrenching off his gloves. He sliced his left wrist open with his fangs and held it to Marko's mouth. "Drink."

His brother's lips felt like dry leaves as they touched his skin. Marko was almost to weak to swallow.

"I'll get the bottle," Paul said, already leaving. He seemed slightly unsteady on his feet.

"Yes," David answered.

He felt somewhat dazed. Perhaps he was in shock. Was that even possible for a vampire?

"Yes," he repeated. "He will need everything we can give him."

Would Marko make it? He was so faint, so parched …

"Don't you dare to die on me," David said, gently stroking Marko's blood-clotted hair with his free hand. "Don't you dare …"

His wounded brother was drinking rather slowly and demurely. David felt not even a little weakened by the blood loss yet, and Marko's horrifying appearance had not changed in the least.

Dwayne, who had long since returned to his guard duty, spoke up quietly. "Should I already drain them?" he asked, indicating to the three mortal boys cowering at his feet. Michael's little brother was cradling his broken ankle, his face smeared with tears, snot and Marko's blood. The Frogs seemed to have shrunk into themselves, although the one with the bandana still tried to hold up a small semblance of defiance.

"Their blood will be stronger if it goes through one of us first," Dwayne stated matter of factly.

"Yes," David answered. "Start with that one." He indicated towards the bandana-kid, whose annoying grimace of false courage immediately melted into one of fear. David hesitated for a second. "Don't drink him dry," he added as an afterthought. "At least not yet. I might still decide to turn him …"

An expression of absolute horror crept over the boy's features. "No!" he croaked hoarsely.

"Oh _yes_ ," David replied with all the sizeable meanness he was capable of. "You just tipped the scales."

Then he turned back to Marko. David gradually began to feel the effect of his feeding, which he considered to be a good sign. Marko also seemed a bit more lucid, and his lips on David's skin felt softer and more substantial now. The hole in his chest still looked terrifying, but the bleeding had stopped. His flesh had to be already in the process of healing, though not much of it was visible yet.

A panicked shriek rang through the cave. Turning around, David met with the helpless, agonized eyes of the bandana-kid, who was dangling in Dwayne's grip, fighting tooth and nail to keep the vampire at bay. He stood no chance, of course. The stream of colourful and most amusing invectives he threw at Dwayne quickly changed into gasps, first of pain, then surprise, as fangs pierced his neck, and the blood began to leave his body. Being fed on was not necessarily an altogether unpleasant experience, at least once one got over the fear and the initial pain. Soon the boy's eyes glazed over. He had long since stopped fighting. He was still holding David's gaze, but with a dazed and confused, even slightly exhilarated air about him. Despite the royal fuck-up they were all currently stuck in, David could not help but chuckle.

The boy's brother, on the other hand, did not seem too pleased. He had stood frozen while the screaming and cursing went on, but now, as it had become eerily quiet, he came out of his stupor and charged at Dwayne like a rabid dog. "Get off him!" he shouted, pummeling the vampire madly, which was, of course, quite ineffective, and barely drew a warning growl from Dwayne. The fuming kid was quickly plucked off of him by Paul, who had just returned with the bottle.

"You took your time," David commented, a little irritated. "What kept you so long?"

Paul appeared to have some trouble in restraining the flailing Frog. "I don't feel too well," he muttered, and David noticed again how drained he looked. He must have gone nearly over the edge in giving Marko his blood. The two were best mates, after all. If Marko died, David could easily imagine Paul following.

"You look like shit," David told him, but there was a rare softness in his voice. "You will drink, too, and you will not hand all of it over to Marko."

Paul started to protest, but David hushed him immediately. "You are also important to me. And we need all your strength now."

Eventually, Paul nodded, bottle in one hand, frothing boy in the other. "Okay," he whispered.

Then, without warning, he turned the still flailing Frog's arm. A soft pop could be heard. The kid went instantly rigid, his face taking on a sickly greenish colour.

"Don't ya puke on me," Paul warned him in a deceptively mellow voice. "Or I'll dislocate your other shoulder as well."

David glanced back at Dwayne and the bandana-boy. The mortal's eyes were half-mast now, and he had begun to slaver all over his chin.

"Stop," David warned. "Or you lose him."

Dwayne released the boy, albeit a bit reluctantly. His barely conscious form fell to the ground with a thud, almost hitting Michael's brother, who had remained frozen during the whole ordeal, crying silently, but trying not to draw any attention to himself.

The other Frog was sobbing openly now. Paul kept him in a firm grip.

"Don't ya cry, baby," he mocked him, while breathing down his neck. "I'll make it good for ya _–_ I promise …" Chuckling, he placed a swift kiss on the boy's nape, which made the kid shudder all over. Then he dragged him to David in order to deliver the bottle.

It was about time. If David did not want to weaken himself dangerously, he could not give Marko much more.

"Let go," he prompted, but Marko, being a starved vampire and all, clung to his wrist, so that David had to dislodge him gently. "It's alright," he said in answer to Marko's moan of longing, "there'll be more." He then tipped the bottle to his still bluish lips and let him empty it completely.

"How is he?" Paul asked, trepidation evident in his voice. "Will he be okay?"

"Yeah," David replied, feeling Paul's relief wash over him and mingle with his own. "He will be alright. He just needs more blood …" he said, putting the empty bottle aside.

Dwayne stepped over silently. He knelt beside David, who quickly made room for him, and scooped Marko up in his arms, offering him the vein on his neck, which was pulsing with the blood of his recent feed. "Come on, pal," he muttered, almost inaudibly. "Help yourself."

While Dwayne was cradling the greedily drinking Marko, David cast a look at Paul, who was completely caught up in toying with his food. At the current moment, he was sniffing the Frog boy up and down like the appetizing snack he was, grinning viciously all the while, and making the kid cringe with fear and disgust.

"Quit being an asshole, Paul," David remarked dispassionately, "and get the fuck on with it. But don't kill him – yet."

Paul smirked at him in reply. He brought his mouth close to the boy's ear and whispered in a mellifluous, almost seductive voice: "What's your name, sweety?"

He received no answer, only a scared, but also angry and stubborn glare.

Paul tossed the kid a bit to underline his seriousness. "I asked ya a question, froggy. I await an reply. And I'm not famed for my patience."

As there was still no answer, he gave the boy's healthy arm a brutal twist, looking quite satisfied with the resulting moan of pain.

"I can go easy on ya or I can make this living hell," he hissed. "It all depends on your cooperation."

Finally, he received a muffled reply: "Alan."

That was all.

"Hiya, Alan!" Paul greeted, sounding elated, and changing effortlessly back to pleasant. In a human, this would have been psychopathic behaviour, but it was quite common among vampires. Paul was not a mean person, but he was a predator, caring little about the feelings of his intended meal, and interacting with it for amusement only. To an unsuspecting mortal observer at the Boardwalk, he might look like a clown, always ready to joke and fool around. Yet, in truth, he was anything but. He liked fooling around with his food, though …

"You're a real cutie, Alan, ya know that?" Paul said in a singsong voice, curling a strand of Alan's hair around his fingers. "So sad we've but little time …"

Without warning, he yanked the boy's head hard to the side and bore down upon him. Alan gave a shocked squeal, then gritted his teeth, struggling to keep his countenance. The boy was quite tough, David had to give him kudos for that. He liked tough in a human.

Sensing movement behind him, David turned back to Dwayne and Marko. Apparently, Marko was done with feeding of Dwayne, but the dark-haired vampire was still holding his brother in his arms, looking intensely down upon him and gracing him with a fond smile.

"Let me see," David demanded, moving closer to the both of them.

Dwayne complied without qualms. Marko appeared to be much better now, the colour and texture of his skin almost back to normal. He was looking at David with clear, but tired eyes. "I feel like shit," he admitted hoarsely.

"You look like it," David replied, ruffling his hair affectionately. After a moment's pause, he added: "I'm glad you're still with us."

"Me, too," Marko whispered.

David went for a closer inspection of his chest. There was still a sizeable, ugly and painful looking hole in it, but it seemed to be closing.

"I don't know if we'll be able to patch you up completely tonight," David mused, "but it should get considerably better once you have incorporated the blood of those two little rats." He nodded in the direction of Alan and Sam. The latter was still crouched on the floor, unlikely to go anywhere any time soon with his broken and angrily swollen ankle.

Marko managed to sit up and take a closer look at the offered remedy for his ailment. "Ain't that Michael's little brother?" he asked, casting the boy a very unfriendly look indeed.

"He is," David confirmed.

Marko's gaze shifted to the unconscious Frog on the ground, then to the one Paul held currently in his clutches. The boy was still standing on his legs, but barely. His expression was one of deep concentration, as if he was trying to fight the feeding vampire off mentally. Then again, David pondered, the boy might just be trying to stay on his feet.

"I know them!" Marko was furrowing his brows.

"Their family owns the comic store at the Boardwalk," Dwayne offered.

"Yeah, I remember now … Ain't they the ones who give out free anti-vampire comics?" Marko gave a short, incredulous laugh. "I thought they were just nuts …" He shook his head, disbelief etched into his features. "How on earth did they find our lair?"

"I think," David's gaze wandered over to Michael's little brother, who became really uncomfortable really fast under his cold and penetrating stare, "we should ask dear little Sammy about this. He's Michael's brother, after all, he's bound to know one thing or the other …"

With a dull thud, Alan's unconscious body hit the ground. Paul turned to them and wiped his mouth carelessly, before joining their little reunion on the floor. "Dude," he said, smiling like mad at Marko, "I'm damn happy to see ya up and well."

Marko smiled back and high fived him, albeit a bit feebly.

"So," David said darkly, finally getting up and walking over to Sam. The boy cringed before him, trying to shield his maimed limb with the rest of his body. David grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, not caring in the slightest whether he hurt him or not. Apparently, he did, for the boy gave a piercing shriek and would have gone down again, if not for the vampire's unyielding hold.

"So," David began anew, his voice deceptively calm. "We owe this to you?" He nodded over to Marko. "You brought them here?" This time, he indicated towards the Frog brothers.

"I … I …" Sam stuttered helplessly, half beside himself with fear.

David jolted him slightly. "Get a grip, boy!" he spit impatiently.

To his own surprise, this seemed to have a positive effect on the kid.

"I … I didn't mean them to kill you all," Sam muttered, clearly distressed, and perhaps not only because of his own fate and that of the Frogs. "I never wanted anyone to be killed …" he whispered meekly. "But they said, if you kill the head vampire, all the others turn back … I thought that Michael … maybe …" He looked at David with wide, frightened eyes and fell silent.

David gave a derisive snort. "They were wrong," he stated simply. "This goes only for the ones who aren't fully turned, yet. Your brother would have become completely human again, as would have Star and Laddie. That is, if you had indeed managed to find and kill the head vampire – which I think highly unlikely. But none of us would have changed back."

Sam seemed perplexed. "Then … none of you are …?" he asked haltingly. "I would've thought …" He looked at David again, positively terrified of him. "After today … I thought ... I thought _you_ must be …"

David graced him with a smirk. "Understandably, but wrong. I'm the head of this bunch of misfits who call themselves The Lost Boys," he smiled at his brothers affectionately, "but I'm not the head vampire."

"Then … who is?" Sam asked in a very small voice.

David's smirk broadened. "I think you know the answer already."

Sam looked horror-stricken. "No," he whispered. "Not _him_ … He can't be …"

"Yes, he can. And he is." David gave a quiet chuckle. "The nice family guy without an inkling of fashion sense, who is currently courting that dear, oh so sweet and tasty mother of yours …"

"No …" Sam mouthed again.

"Get over it." David was enjoying this more and more. "He'll probably want you as an addition to the family, so you might as well get used to calling us guys here brothers."

Sam made a queer, incredulous sound, stuck somewhere between snort and desperate laughter.

"I'm not joking," David assured him. "Max asked me to rope you in, both you and your brother. He thought that your mother would be more likely to yield to his advances if her sons were already turned."

The boy seemed so unsteady on his one good leg now that David finally showed something akin to mercy, and scooped him up in his arms.

"You might want to make amends to your brother Marko," he told Sam, while carrying him over to the other vampires. "He nearly died because of your foolishness."

Marko was drinking again, this time from Paul's wrist, but had followed the conversation with pricked ears. He now let go of his brother's hand, evidently in full control of his vampiric instincts again. David could have shouted with joy. Instead, he just smiled at Marko appreciatively, before setting Sam down on the floor right next to him, this time taking some care not to aggravate the fracture further.

"Hiya, little one," Marko greeted him, his voice somewhere between mock teasing and _very_ precarious amicability. "Look at this."

He smoothed his blood-encrusted jacket to the side, so that Sam had a nice view of the still prominent hole in his chest. It did no longer go all the way through him and had begun to heal from the inside out, but looking at it still made Sam turn an ugly shade of yellow.

"Looks nasty, eh?" Marko said softly. "Feels nasty, too."

He then took Sam's right hand into his own, firmly, but without hurting him, guiding it steadily towards the gaping hole he owed to him and the Frogs. All the while, he was looking the boy straight in the eye.

Obviously, Sam did not dare to resist him, but he seemed utterly horrified. "I … I tried to stop them," he gasped. "I really did …"

"Oh, but I know you did," Marko answered pleasantly. "I heard you in my sleep. You told them not to do it." He smiled at Sam, holding his hand tightly in his grasp. "But, then again," he continued, still in a very gentle voice, "you brought them here. They would never have found us … but for you."

He gripped the boy harder, forcing his hand to the injury, steering it not only to, but into the horrible hole in his chest. Sam's hand fit into it completely. He looked as if he was going to faint from fear and revulsion. But Marko did neither threaten nor harm him, he just held his hand firmly where he had chosen to put it.

"This hurt like hell," he went on, eyes still locked with the boy. "Actually, it still does."

At long last, he let go of Sam, who hesitated somewhat, before withdrawing his hand extremely carefully out of Marko's undead body.

"Don't you think you should help fix that?" Marko asked, his tone slightly mocking now, but still not unkind.

Sam hesitated again. He gulped. Eventually, he nodded his affirmation, though feeling clearly uncomfortable with doing so.

"Gee, thanks. That's really awesome of you!" Marko, already halfway into the change, grinned at the boy like a shark, showing his sharp and pointed teeth. "I promise I'll play nice in return."

And he did, David noted with surprise and curiosity. Unless Paul, who had but toyed with the Frog boy, Marko really did go easy on Sam. He drew him over gently, pushing the boy's face against his chest, though furthest as possible from the wound, so that Sam would neither have to look at the grisly hole nor at Marko's ghastly grimace of a face as he turned into full feeding mode. When he went for the neck, he did it cautiously, not ripping the skin to shreds, but punctuating the vein swiftly and precisely. Sam still moaned with the pain, but Marko shushed him quickly, rocking him soothingly while he drank.

David felt slightly bewildered by the scene. But, then again, a lot out of the ordinary had happened today, and the boy was, after all, to become part of their family – whatever David thought about this particular quirk of Max's stupid antics.

Marko stopped drinking before Sam became unconscious.

The boy seemed very dazed. He experienced today's unique privilege of being lowered to the ground quite carefully. His glazed eyes searched the surroundings anxiously, until they found David and settled on him.

"And now …?" Sam croaked with an effort, looking forlorn and confused. "What happens now …?"

"Now," David answered calmly, leaning against the wall of the cave and lighting a much needed cigarette, "we wait."

He inhaled deeply, then blew the smoke out again. It formed a translucent cloud around his head.

"We wait, till your dearest brother Michael makes his appearance on this stage …"

 


	2. Transgressions

There were still almost two hours until sundown. David did not like to visit the main cave during the day, it was too close to the outer world and the sun. So they kept to the thicker darkness of their lair, willing the time to pass, feeling angry and anxious after the shock of Marko's almost-demise.

David's body was urging him to go back to sleep, but he considered it too dangerous with the mortal boys around. They might look like they were hardly able to crawl now, but after what they had done to Marko … Better be safe than sorry.

Michael would not turn up before dusk, though. He was already far into the transformation, which made him dazed and clumsy during the day. The same went for Laddie and Star. David knew that they were gone, he had seen their empty beds when he was chasing the mortal boys. He assumed that Michael had been with Sam and the Frogs, taking the child and girl away. During the day they could not have gone far, however, not without the help of a human. They were probably still within close vicinity.

David turned to Sam, who was lying next to Marko and appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Kneeling down beside him, David took the boy by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake.

Sam opened his eyes, but was having trouble focussing. "Yeah …?" he muttered groggily. He seemed not to recognize David, although they had spoken only minutes ago.

David gave him another shake. "Your brother," he said, making the urge clear in his voice. "Was he with you?"

Sam blinked. "Michael …?"

"Yeah, Michael. Was he with you and the Frogs when you entered the cave?"

Instead of answering, Sam licked his lips. "I'm thirsty …" he croaked.

"You wouldn't like what I can offer," David remarked dryly. "Now, answer me … and Paul might have a look if we have a can of coke or something left in the main cave."

They kept a stock of beverage and food there for Laddie and Star.

"Might I?" Paul muttered, not sounding overeager. David ignored him.

The thought of beverage seemed to animate the boy. He had lost a lot of blood, after all, and was bound to feel parched. David could somewhat sympathize with feeling that thirsty.

"Michael was with us," Sam admitted. His voice sounded hoarse. "He took Star and Laddie out. I don't think he came back after that, though." After a moment of silence, he added: "He didn't seem to pleased with what we were about to do."

"But he did nothing to interfere?" David inquired, feeling his temper rise.

"No. He did nothing."

"Very well." David swallowed his anger for the time being. It was directed at Michael now, anyway, and Michael was not yet here …

He nodded to Paul. "Go to the main cave and see if you can find something to drink. Preferably something non-alcoholic."

Paul seemed a bit disgruntled, but shuffled off to do David's bidding. A few minutes later, he was back with two bottles of water and some cans of Sprite.

David went to help Sam into a sitting position, but the boy cringed away from his touch. Not in the mood for patience, David yanked him up rather roughly, causing the kid to swoon and turn yellowish once more. He had probably strained his broken ankle.

Paul bent down and put a bottle of water in front of the boy. Although he was still looking as if he was about to be sick, he snapped it up immediately.

"Don't swig ," Paul warned him. "Ya'll only end chucking."

David went to check on the Frogs. Alan was still out cold. For a second, David considered setting his shoulder, but then decided it was safer to keep him like this for the time being. The other Frog had edged closer to his brother while the vampires had been occupied with Sam. At the current moment, he was resting only five feet away from Alan, staring up at David with angry, defiant eyes.

David smiled at him coldly, then took him by the shoulder before he had time to recoil, and dragged him right to the side of his unconscious sibling. "There," he said. "Now stay put."

He eyed the boy's bandana for a moment, then pulled it out of his hair and pocketed it.

"Hey!" the Frog objected, sounding pissed.

"You won't need that."

David contemplated the martial equipment on him and his brother with disgust. "And you won't need these." He bent down and extricated the stakes from his belt, one after the other, throwing them to the opposite side of the cave, where they landed with a dull clatter. Afterwards, he started to search the boy in earnest, paying no heed to his mutterings of protest, only stopping to grab his wrist and give it a warning twist as the kid tried to stop David bodily from stripping him down. He found several flasks he presumed to be filled with holy water, a clutter of crosses, a mirror, garlic in abundance, a water pistol, an army knife … He took everything and added it with gusto to the pile of stakes, then proceeded with the unconscious Frog.

When he was finally satisfied that everything potentially harmful to a vampire was stacked far away from the two maniacs, he beckoned to Paul, who tossed him a can of Sprite in reply.

David brandished it in front of the defiant Frog's eyes. "Want some?" he asked in a teasing voice.

The boy had to feel just as drained as Sam had been feeling. There were rules about how much blood could be taken without inflicting grave or even irreversible damage, and they had stretched these rules to the limits today. All the boys had lost roughly one third of the precious liquid, if not more. Go beyond half, and there was no turning back without a transfusion of one kind or the other. So, if they had each parted with up to four pints of blood, they needed to replace it with something.

The Frog swallowed visibly, but did not utter a single word. He tried to stare David down, though, but, naturally, lost and had to avert his eyes soon.

David waited for a minute or two, then made as if to turn away. Almost instantly, he heard the barest of whispers.

"Yeah …"

He turned back to the boy, brows raised, an expectant expression upon his face. This time, the kid did not meet his eyes as he uttered, even softer than before: "Please?"

David said nothing in reply, but let the can drop into the boy's lap. He remained towering over his beaten, humiliated enemy, watching him open the latch with slightly trembling fingers, then observing him drink, slowly and meekly, until he had emptied the tin completely.

David cast Paul a sign, who threw him another can of lemonade.

"I have a feeling that we finally understand each other," David said, crouching in front of the Frog and putting the beverage on the floor between them. "Care to tell me your name?"

The boy seemed taken aback. It took him a moment, but then he answered: "It's Edgar." He sounded resigned.

"Well, Edgar," David told him, "try to wake your brother and make him drink this. We wouldn't want him to go into haemorrhagic shock, now, would we?"

"No," Edgar whispered. However, he did not to dare to turn his focus from David to his brother. So, David stood up and let him be, wandering over to Sam instead. Paul had put the remaining beverages on the floor, and David snatched the bottle of water and a can of Sprite on his way over.

Marko was lying on his back, stretched out on the ground. His eyes were closed, but David could sense that he was awake.

"I'm 'kay," Marko muttered, without opening his eyes. "… just need a nap. Thought 'bout going up into the rafters, but I'm still kinda weak. Don't wanna crack my skull open when I come tumbling down in my sleep …"

David said nothing, but touched his shoulder briefly when kneeling down beside Sam.

The boy seemed quite relaxed with sitting next to Marko, and even with Paul mere feet away, but stiffened the instant David got near him. Exasperated, David snapped: "Oh, for heaven's sake! I'm only trying to help you, doofus!"

Stunned, Sam watched him opening the bottle and soaking Edgar's bandana with water.

"Let me have a look at your ankle!" David demanded, and, hesitantly, the boy complied.

It didn't look too good. There was a mean, colourful bruise upon the skin, and the area around the fracture had swollen distinctly. David didn't know if the bones needed resetting, and he would rather not try to do that, anyway. So he settled for wrapping the wet bandana around Sam's ankle, who gritted his teeth through the process, but did not utter a sound.

"There you go," David said when he had finished. "That's all I can do about it – at least, for now."

He handed Sam the can of lemonade. "Drink some more," he advised.

After a short hesitation, he took off his trench coat and draped it over Sam's shoulders. It was chilly in here, and the boy would feel the cold even more after the considerable loss of blood he had experienced.

Sam looked startled. It took him a few seconds until he remembered to mouth a quiet "Thanks."

"He won't wake up …"

The voice sounded small and frightened like a child's, so it took David a moment to process that it was, indeed, that of Edgar Frog. He turned, but Dwayne, who had been loitering in the background all the while, was already at the boy's side.

"David? This doesn't seem good. He's cold as ice, and I can hardly sense a pulse."

Dwayne was right, of course. David could hear the flat and rushed breathing of the unconscious kid even from where he stood, as soon as he concentrated on it.

"I think he's in shock," Dwayne added. "Paul might have gone a bit over the top with drinking …"

"Ah, fuck!" Paul had risen. He sounded annoyed. "It's not the usual procedure to keep them alive after feeding, now, is it? How should I know how much he can take … Besides, he deserved it!" He aimed a heartfelt kick at the anti-vampire attire piled up at the wall of the cave. "And, finally … who cares?"

"I care," David answered, his voice firm.

"And that would be because …?" Paul prodded, still pissed.

"And that would be," David replied, his voice harder now, "because I want him in the pack."

Paul looked as if he had been hit by a truck. "No way …!" he breathed.

"NO!" Edgar shouted, almost simultaneously.

"You want your brother to live?" David asked, looking up and catching his eye briefly. "Then do not interfere."

"I don't believe this …" Paul muttered, as David used his fangs to slice the vein on his left wrist open once more, and proceeded to press his bleeding flesh against Alan's cold, slightly parted lips.

Dwayne was holding Edgar, just in case, but the boy did not try to stop David. He only watched, with wide, horrified eyes, while tears were rolling down his cheeks. "No," he repeated, but so quietly it was almost inaudible. "Alan …"

David's blood was trickling in a steady thread into Alan's mouth. After a minute or two, the boy began to react. He did not open his eyes, but he swallowed. Once, twice, then he began licking. A hand snaked up and seized David's wrist, holding it steady. With each drop, the boy seemed to be gaining strength. David could not help but smirk. He felt a teensy weensy bit sorry for the other kid, who seemed utterly devastated, but, then again, said kid had run a stake through Marko and therefore deserved to be suffering …

He could not give Alan much of his blood, for he had already given aplenty to Marko. Fortunately, not much was needed at this stage, anyway. So, shortly, he drew his wrist away again, not heeding the moan of loss and longing the boy made in reply. "That's enough for now," he stated resolutely. "Try a can of lemonade for a change."

At that, Alan opened his eyes and looked at him searchingly. "I know what you did …" he whispered.

"You do? Well, so do I." David shrugged his shoulders. "You really should drink that, you know," he said, pressing the can into Alan's hand. "You look drained." He stood, sneering down upon the kid.

Alan gave him another quizzical look, then complied.

Dwayne let go of Edgar, who looked desperate and heartbroken. "I don't believe this," the Frog stated to no one in particular, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That makes two of us," Paul remarked dryly. "David, what on earth …?"

"Max is planning to expand his family," David replied. He was trying to keep his cool, although Paul was grating on his nerves with his sulking. But his brothers were entitled to know, after all. "So, I am going to expand mine."

"Ya could have talked to us first, ya know …" Paul sounded not irked now, but hurt. He turned and made for the main cave. David was at him in the blink of an eye, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him round forcibly. Paul snarled, his eyes changing to a steel glossing rouge.

"Paul, no!" David commanded, holding him fast. "Listen to me!"

Dwayne was already at his side, prepared to intervene on David's behalf if necessary.

Paul stood motionless, but the anger was still evident on his face.

"I could've told you so," Marko remarked from his spot on the floor, seemingly unperturbed. "David had _that look_ as you drained the boy … Just like, back then, when I had _you_ by the throat …"

Paul visibly deflated at Marko's comment. He knew that he was very lucky to be alive, or undead, whatever you call it, and that it had been by a hair's breadth. David had decided in a mad rush, at that time, and stopped Marko, who otherwise would have killed Paul without second thought.

Dwayne and Marko, David had chosen carefully and courted for weeks, but Paul had been taken in by impulse. This, and the fact that the youngest of the Lost Boys had had to deal with a lot of rejection, and worse, in his mortal life, seemed to be the cause for his lingering insecurity. Usually, Paul painted it over by showing a bright and goofy front, but sometimes, he still appeared to fear that David might regret his harum-scarum decision and throw him out or even kill him.

"Paul," David said, summoning up his patience as well as his love for his brother. "I don't mean Alan to be a replacement. He will be an addition, and only if we _all_ think that he is going to fit. But he was in danger of dying from shock, and as I like to keep my options open, I had to do something about that … Do you understand?"

At last, Paul nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, abashed. "I understand."

"Good." David gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze before letting go of him.

"Now, you two rest." He indicated first to Paul and Dwayne, then up to the rafters at the ceiling of the cave. "It's still more than an hour and a half till sunset, and we'll have to first rein in Michael, then put up with Mad Max …"

Paul grinned, halfway back to his usual good spirited nature - or, as it was, facade. Before he could fly up into the rafters, though, David snatched him by the sleeve of his jacket. "You need that while you're sleeping?"

"Uh ... not exactly, no." Paul eyed him with considerable doubt. "But what would _ya_ need it for?"

David gestured towards the Frog brothers. "It's freezing in here, and they're not well …"

Paul regarded him for a second as if thinking that David had finally lost his marbles. "You're nuts," he commented accordingly, but shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over to David all the same. Then he took off to their sleeping place.

His eyes still on Paul, David felt a second jacket being piled upon his arms. "There you are," Dwayne remarked, a smile evident in his voice, and followed Paul up to the ceiling.

 


	3. Confrontation

Finally, the sun was setting. David pushed himself off the wall of the cave, against which he had been leaning, and stretched. He had been dozing a little, satisfied that all of the mortal boys were still far to drained to dare a move against him or Marko. Paul and Dwayne were high up in the rafters, this time at a spot no one without flying abilities could have reached. David had positioned himself right beside the Frog's discarded weapons arsenal, though, and with a nice overview of their lair, just to be sure …

Marko was stirring on the ground. He looked far better, almost back to normal. Sometime during the last hour, he had made it a point to charm Michael's little brother to him, offering himself as a pillow. Currently, the boy had his head propped against Marko's belly and was wrapped in David's trench coat, deep in the sleep of exhaustion. About twenty feet away, the Frogs were huddled together, several now empty cans of Sprite lying next to them. Edgar was wearing Dwayne's jacket, Alan Paul's. The defiant Frog had resented the clothing first, but eventually given in to the chill of the cave and his more sensible brother's attempts at persuasion. They were both awake and watching David's every move – which must have been quite boring, for he had not so much as batted an eye for over an hour.

Dwayne came down from the rafters, landing beside David with smooth and soundless grace. Not a minute later, Paul was awake and on the ground, too.

"Let's get over to the main cave," David said. "Mindless Michael will be there soon."

He went to scoop up Sam, for they would be flying over as always. But Marko was already on his feet and bending down to hoist the boy into his arms. So, David resigned from his task and turned to the Frogs instead.

Edgar was holding his brother in a protective embrace from behind, giving David an angry glare that clearly said: "Fuck you!" He did not seem intent on letting go any time soon.

"Dwayne?" David prompted.

Dwayne was behind Edgar in an instant, so fast that the kid didn't know what had hit him as he suddenly lost the ground under his butt and was pulled up into the air. He gave a shocked yelp and let go of his brother reflexively.

David graced the frothing Edgar with the best of his smirks, then proceeded to lift Alan into his arms.

The boy did not fight him. He was not even resenting David's touch. The blood was already at work, forming a bond between them. Soon, Alan would be all theirs. Another brother, lost maybe, but also loved – if he managed to live up to David's expectations, that was.

Now, this wasn't the shitty, easy going, charm them into the family thing stupid Max was favouring – this was the _real thing_. It did not consist of a swig from a bottle of blood, as Max had cajoled them into doing to Michael, but was made of biting, and pain, and lust, and fear, and dying, and resurrection … As far as David was concerned, it was the only way things should ever be.

They flew through the tunnel and the elevator shaft at breakneck speed. He saw Edgar clinging to Dwayne for dear life.

David gave a quiet chuckle. The boy was such an obnoxious, loud-mouthed brat, but, in essence, he was still a child. He was afraid of the dark and the things that lived in it, even more so than the average kid – that was the reason why, David assumed, he had chosen his calling as slayer of all things he perceived to be evil.

Contrary to his brother, Alan appeared to be more exhilarated than frightened by their short flight.

David could not see how Sam was faring, for Marko was in the lead. When they entered the main cave, however, and Marko landed and placed his burden on Star's bed in one swift and graceful motion, the boy's eyes were bright, and he looked at Marko with wonder and awe. "Wow!" he muttered. "That was _cool_ …"

Marko snickered, the sound muffled behind his gloved hand. "See, little one – being a vampire _does_ come with advantages."

David strongly suspected Marko insisted on calling Sam "little one" because he himself had been at the receiving end of that phrase far more often than he liked. Most people who had called him thus hadn't survived, though …

Dwayne discarded Edgar next to Sam, while David placed Alan on Laddie's bed – he thought it safer to keep the Frog boys apart for now.

Alan's right arm was still dangling uselessly at his side.

"Dwayne? Gimme a hand?" David asked.

Dwayne, knowing what was due, ambled over, hopped onto the bed and sneaked up behind Alan, who looked alarmed.

"We need to fix that," Dwayne explained, nodding to the dislocated joint. "The longer we wait, the more difficult it gets."

Alan gulped.

"Now, this will work best if you just lie down," Dwayne pushed him face first into the mattress, and not too gently at that, "and try _not to move_."

David held the boy down with both hands, while Dwayne took his arm and drew it back slowly but steadily. There was a gentle pop, accompanied by a grunt of pain that was stifled by sheets and pillows. They let the boy up again and he sat, rubbing his shoulder and casting Dwayne a dirty look.

Suddenly, David sensed a new presence. It was alive with dread and worry. Michael was nearing the cave.

The other vampires felt it as well. Without words, Marko and Paul came over to stand beside David and Dwayne.

"Try not to do anything stupid. You would regret it." David's words were directed at the three mortal boys, but he looked only at Edgar when speaking.

The Frog gave an indignant grunt and crossed his arms, glaring back at David.

Michael was standing at the entrance now.

"Well?" David said in a cold voice, eyes still locked with Edgar, and not turning around. "There you are, Michael. Now – explain yourself."

He finally turned and looked Michael straight in the eye, letting him see that he was indeed brimming with rage.

Fear was wafting off of Michael. He did not know what had transpired at their lair during the day, but he could perceive that the four vampires were all up and well. His view of Sam and Edgar was blocked from where he stood, though. He only saw Alan, who was pale and shaken, clutching his shoulder.

"Where's Sam? What did you do to my brother?" Michael whispered, his voice unsteady.

David gave a bitter laugh. "What did _I_ do to _your_ brother? Shouldn't I be the one asking that question?"

Michael was ill at ease. "I didn't …" he began, but was instantly cut off by David.

"Oh yes, _you did_! It was _you_ who led mortals to our cave that had every intent of killing us. Then you turned tail, leaving it to three kids, one of them your little brother, to slaughter us in our sleep. And you dare asking me what _I_ did to _your_ brother? Shame on you, Michael! Shame on you!"

Michael was scared – David could smell it –, but would not give in yet.

"Shame on me?! You should be the one to be ashamed!" Michael threw at him. "You're a _monster_ , David, a blood-sucking, homicidal monster – _all_ of you are … You kidnapped Star, you did I don't know what to Laddie, you lied to me, you tried to turn us into monsters as well …"

"Whenever did I lie to you?!" David spat back. What a dumb, ignorant ass this guy was! "Care to enlighten me, Michael, for I cannot, for the world, recall. The only thing that comes to my mind is tricking you with the food, – maggots and worms, remember? –, but that was only a joke, and quite a harmless one, at that. And before you accuse me of forcing you into anything: _Nobody_ forced you to drink from that bottle. Star even told you it was blood. It was your own choice. You did it because you wanted to be one of us!"

Michael shook his head frantically. "No! I'd never … I wanted in, yes, but … You didn't tell me what you are, only later, you didn't ask me if I wanted … if I wanted to be _like that_." He seemed to shudder with revulsion. "And … afterwards … if I had told you no, you would've killed me. I had to … to do _something_ …"

"But ya didn't do a thing, Mikey," Paul chipped in. "No more than any Judas did, anyway …" He sneered at Michael, showing his white and glittering teeth. „I didn't see ya amongst the cavalry … I only saw three kids, who were not on a par with us – in no way, shape or form. How old's your brother, eh? Thirteen? Fourteen? And the other kids? One or two years older than him? Ya thought they would snuff us out? Just like that? And come out of it unscathed? Ya really thought that?"

David gave Michael no time to answer. "You asked about your brother, Michael. What if I tell you about mine?" His tone was controlled, yet threatening. He let his gaze drift over to Marko, then back to Michael again.

"I think I'll tell you. I think you should know," he hissed. "So, Marko … He was _staked_ by your little friends. _Staked!_ We were barely able to save him! Can you imagine what it is like to look at your brother, bathed in blood, with a hole in his chest that goes right through him? Imagine your brother, Michael … imagine Sam … Withered and parched under your hands, the blood pooling around him, crying with the pain, choking, dying …"

Michael did not answer, but clearly, he imagined – he was pale, cold sweat on his brow. Perhaps he awaited the moment when Sam would be hurled at his feet, mutilated, dead, looking exactly like the picture David was painting in horrid colours.

"You rode with us, Michael," Dwayne joined in, looking solemn. "We invited you into our home, into our brotherhood … We shared food and drink and partied together … Was that nothing to you?"

Again, Michael did not reply.

"Ever had your heart run through with a sharp object?" Marko took over. The smile upon his lips was pure menace, his voice acidic. "It's no fun. It hurts like hell. It very nearly killed me. Anything to say to that?"

"I …" Michael was retreating now, edging back to the entrance of the cave. In a gush of wind, Dwayne and Paul were behind him, blocking his route of escape.

"Please …"

At long last, Michael was pleading. It gave David some satisfaction, but it was far from enough.

"What are ya asking for, huh?" Paul jeered. "Are ya grovelling for mercy or what? The mercy ya wouldn't grant us?"

"Please," Michael repeated, his voice shaking. He looked beseechingly at David. "If you love your brothers, you'll understand … you'll understand that I love mine. _Please_ , David, tell me: Where's Sam? What have you done to him?"

David would probably have gone on tormenting him for much longer, but a small voice behind him piped up: "I'm 'kay."

Livid, David spun around, shooting the boy a deadly glare. But it was done – Michael knew that his brother was alive and relatively unharmed.

"Shut the fuck up!" David hissed nevertheless, and Sam shrunk into himself like a deflated balloon.

David turned back to Michael. "Well, now you know. Your brother is here, he's not severely hurt, I didn't wring his neck or cut him open, I only caused reversible damage …"

"Reversible damage?!" Michael was alarmed. "What do you mean by that?!"

"I mean," David replied calmly, "that I had to break his ankle to prevent him from running, and in order to release some pressure which would otherwise have caused me to tear him limb from limb, and that Marko took a reasonable amount of his blood to heal his own injuries, but" –

"You didn't" –

" _Stop_ interjecting me!" David bellowed, so furious that Michael took a step back and bumped into Paul, who shoved him forward again, doing so with gusto.

"I'm so fucking fed up with you, Michael!" David continued his rant. "You're little brother has more guts than you, and don't make me start on character or loyalty …"

"I have no reason to be loyal to you!" Michael erupted, his eyes suddenly glowing red. "I owe you _nothing_!"

He was only a hair's breadth from attacking David. Behind his back, Paul and Dwayne got ready to tackle him the instant he tried.

"You owe me _everything_!" David roared back. "You owe me your life, to begin with, and that of your pesky little brother! You owe me the lives of the Frog boys you sent in here to butcher us! I could have wiped out each and every one of you! I could have ripped you to shreds! I gave you eternity, damn it, and you repaid me by trying to have me and my brothers killed!"

At long last, Michael was at a loss for words.

The silence grew until it filled the whole cavern. Only the roaring of the waves and the crackling of the flames could be heard. Minutes passed. Then, Michael whispered: "I'm sorry."

More silence.

Finally, David said: "You'd better be."

He locked eyes with his opponent, making sure of his submission. Michael was not able to hold his gaze for long, ere he had to turn his eyes away. When, after more than a minute, he looked up again, he addressed Marko, who was standing next to David. Marko was sporting a smile of malice on his face that told his brothers he was contemplating several ways of slow and tormenting death for Michael.

"I really am – sorry, that is," Michael said. He was barely able to look Marko in the eye.

"Yeah," Marko replied, not overly enthusiastic. "Whatever."

David let another minute pass, then stood aside and gestured towards the bed where Sam and Edgar were sitting. "Go ahead, Michael."

Michael hesitated, clearly not wanting to turn his back to David and the other vampires. But he also yearned to go to his brother, who was leaning eagerly over the edge of the bed, shoving back the curtains and, despite the situation, smiling at him. At last, his urge to be with Sam won and he went over, avoiding to look at either David or Marko as he slipped past them.

Paul started to follow him, something undoubtedly sarcastic on his lips, but David stopped him in his tracks. He could relate to Michael's need to check on his brother, and did not wish him to be bothered while doing so.

Edgar had made room on the bed by sliding towards the headboard, but Michael did not sit down on the mattress. Instead, he knelt on the floor, took both of his brother's hands into his own and began to sob. "Sam ... I'm so sorry. I should never … I had no right to drag you into this. I'm so sorry …"

Sam appeared to be taken aback. "It's okay, Mike. _I'm_ okay …"

"No, you're not!" Michael indicated towards Sam's bandana-bandaged ankle. "You're hurt, and it's all my fault."

"Can't disagree with that," Paul singsonged with mock cheerfulness, but David shushed him.

"They didn't …" Michael sounded apprehensive. "They didn't make you drink anything, did they?"

Sam was grinning impishly. "Uh – in fact, they did. – But only water and lemonade," he added quickly as Michael blanched at his words. "There was no blood involved – I swear!" He held up his hand to underline his seriousness.

"Gosh, sometimes I _do_ hate you," Michael muttered, but squeezed his hands affectionately all the same.

"Okay, that's enough," David interjected. He did not wish to spend the rest of the night watching Michael and his brother bantering. "Let's get on with this. – You came here by car, Michael?"

"Yeah …"

"Star and Laddie still in it?"

"I ... suppose so," Michael answered. He sounded guarded.

"Good," David replied. "Then grab your brother, we'll grab the Frogs, and we'll all go see Max."

"Max?" Michael appeared to be bewildered. David could not blame him for that.

"Max's the one," Sam whispered to his brother. "He's the top bat – the head vampire."

Michael's baffled expression caused David and his brothers to laugh.

"Yeah, who would've guessed?" Paul mused, grinning. "I, for one, wouldn't, if I didn't know …"

David went over to Alan. "Are we flying again?" the boy asked, a fragile smile upon his lips.

"Only to the top of the cliff," David answered. "Then you'll be going by car."

"I like flying." Alan's voice sounded dreamy. "It's the coolest thing I ever did."

"Alan!" Edgar reprimanded his brother, sounding horror-stricken. "It's not cool – it's _unnatural_!"

The four vampires exchanged amused glances.

"Obviously," David told Alan, "your brother has not yet overcome the fact that we do, indeed, walk the earth. – Edgar," he purred, "please take note that we do exist, and therefore are part of nature – the traits that raise us above humans not withstanding."

Edgar muttered something undoubtedly unfriendly under his breath, and tried to stare Paul down, who had come to pick him up. "I'm not a child!" he huffed. "I don't need to be carried! I can walk!"

"Oh, but it's much more fun to dangle ya by the scruff of your neck while flying thirty feet above the ground," Paul replied, and did just as he had threatened. Edgar bawled at him and called him some very creative names, which only heightened Paul's amusement.

Alan appeared to be a bit concerned about the fate of his brother, but since Paul did not seem inclined on hurting Edgar … Well, he couldn't have done anything about it anyway. So, he stood, allowing David to lift him up bridal style without so much as an unfriendly thought visible on his face.

"You'll manage?" Marko had approached Michael without him noticing. He jumped, just as he was about to hoist his brother into his arms, and gave him a wary look.

"I'll manage alright," Michael mumbled.

"Just remember that he's got a broken ankle," Marko warned. "Your flying abilities ... – Did you actually ever manage a controlled flight? – Well, you could always scramble up those rickety stairs, I suppose … In any case, don't drop him."

"Perhaps you'd rather carry him yourself?" Michael's glare was anything but friendly.

"On second thought – I will."

Michael was left speechless on the ground as Marko snatched his brother away from him and up into the air in a split second. He seemed even more perturbed by the fact that Sam didn't utter a single sound of protest and appeared to be quite relaxed with being held by Marko as one would hold a child.

"Ready, boys?" David asked, barely suppressing his laughter. "Let's roll!"

 


	4. Kicking The Tires

The car was parking directly at the edge of the cliff. Laddie and Star were both in the backseat. Star did not look too happy about seeing them, but she did not look surprised, either. Unlike Michael, she was not daft, and had surely figured out beforehand that three teenage boys would be no match for four fully grown vampires – not even at daytime.

"Hello Star," David greeted her, calm and composed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day. Marko admired him for his self-control. "You're getting company." David hoisted Alan into the backseat, and, after a moment's hesitation, Star helped to make the kid comfortable. She gave the boy a sad and knowing smile.

Paul shoved Edgar into Dwayne's arms unceremoniously, and hurried over to retrieve his beloved leather jacket. In turn, Star took off the cape she had been wearing and tucked Alan in.

Meanwhile, Dwayne had rounded the car to dispose of the little nagger he was carrying. "Hi Laddie." He smiled fondly at the child. "I'm afraid you'll have to close ranks in there."

Laddie answered him with a happy grin, and went to cuddle with Star. She again reached over to help get Edgar into the car. The kid tried to brush off her hands, muttering something about filthy bloodsuckers. He must have received quite a hard squeeze from Dwayne in retribution, for the Frog seemed to choke on his words a split second later. Dwayne continued to manhandle the boy, yanking his jacket off of Edgar with a low growl.

"Dwayne," Star tried to appease him, "please don't. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," Dwayne replied, his face grim. "You behave!" he snarled at Edgar. "Or you'll have to answer to me! Understood?"

As restrained as he usually was, an angry Dwayne was a terrible sight to behold. Apparently, Edgar thought the same, and, therefore, quickly nodded his affirmation.

Marko snickered. The kid was riling them all, and it was good to see him put into place time and again. He only wished the Frog would stay there. But, on second thought, that would have been far less amusing …

Marko felt a bit reluctant to part with his burden. To his own surprise, he had taken a liking to Sam. He knew that he shouldn't, for there was no way to know how things were going to turn out, plus, the boy had been among the brainless band trying to off them. But, so what? He liked him nevertheless. Under different circumstances, Marko was sure Sam would be fun to be with. The boy had character, and he had obviously inherited all the available intelligence as well, which, sadly, left none for Michael … Marko grinned.

Said Michael was holding open the door at the passenger's side, and Marko carefully settled Sam into the seat, stripping him of the trench coat in the process and handing it over to David. He spied the blanket on Laddie's lap. "May I borrow that?"

"Sure." Laddie passed him the blanket, and Marko started to cushion the broken ankle with it. He was cautious, but Sam grunted with pain all the same.

Michael stood only feet away. He seemed anxious, but did not dare to intervene.

"There. All set!" Marko announced finally, giving Sam an encouraging pat on the back.

Michael glared at him, then got around the car to take the driver's position.

"We'll go get the bikes. You follow," David ordered.

They took off into the air and began racing each other, all the while staying close to the ground and, especially, the car. Paul was hooting and doing some acrobatic flying tricks, forcing Marko to join in by grabbing him by one ankle and turning him upside down. Marko was highly amused, and became his willing accomplice in no time. Alas, they were not able to cajole Dwayne into partaking, and did not even try to convince David.

Sam and Alan were watching open mouthed as they danced and spun through the air. Even the moody Frog seemed quite impressed. Laddie was clapping his hands enthusiastically.

After about half a mile, they arrived at the expertly camouflaged shack where they kept their bikes, and touched down.

Marko yearned to feel his lady between his legs again. Riding was almost better than flying – at least, as far as he was concerned …

Paul pushed the gate open, and they all submerged into the semi-darkness of the shack.

Marko did not need vampiric eyesight to find his baby, he knew her by heart – her smell, her feel, the purring sound she made when they were racing on the highway, the different hum she gave off when they were chasing down the beach … She was a dual-sport Honda with a four-stroke engine, but Marko had, of course, modified her to make her lighter and more able for off-road use. Now, she was pretty nifty and reliable.

Marko pushed her out and mounted her, starting the engine, while the others did the same to their bikes. Soon, they were kicking the tires and lighting the fires.

Jeering, Paul took the lead, with Michael following and the others tailing and sometimes overtaking them.

It was a fair distance to Max's house.

Marko enjoyed the ride even more than usual. He was well aware that his continued existence had been on a knife's edge that day, and he felt _so_ alive because of that …

The wind was ripping at his hair and his clothes, the drone of the engines drowning out every other sound. He sped up and drew level with the car, waving a gleeful greeting over to the group in the back. Laddie waved back, of course, and Star gave Marko a strained smile. Alan leaned forward a bit to have a better view as Dwayne accelerated, too, and raced past Marko and his Honda. That was, naturally, a challenge, and Marko barely had time to notice the indignant expression on Edgar's face as he blew the boy a mocking farewell kiss in passing. He got ahead of the car, outrunning Dwayne as well as Paul, now spearheading their little group.

Before they could start competing in earnest, however, he felt a gentle pull in his mind. 'Not now!' David told them firmly.

Marko sighed and slowed down, so that he was level with Paul. Dwayne fell back even further, joining David at the rear.

Mere minutes later, they entered the Santa Carla suburb were Max was living at reasonable speed, heeding almost all traffic regulations. How totally and utterly boring …

They parked their bikes and the car in front of the house. Marko killed the engine with regret. If he had to chose between Max and the Honda, his bike would win any time. Unfortunately, the visit had been scheduled in advance and could not be avoided. The circumstances were a bit different than planned, however, since Michael had gone off his rocker and tried to have them killed …

Max was dining with Lucy tonight, and it had been agreed that they would join them at some point, along with Michael, Sam, and, perhaps, Star and Laddie. In that mad mind of his, Max had composed a theatrical play of revelation and amalgamation, putting them all into a pot, stirring and mashing eagerly, and – voilà! – serving perfect family soup.

No one but Max himself had ever believed that it would work out, but … well, this was Max. He was certainly persistent when it came to his weird plans.

This time, Michael insisted on carrying his brother himself. Marko let him, hiding his smirk behind his fist, catching and returning the half puzzled, half amused glance Sam was casting him.

The Frogs were able to walk, but Alan needed a guiding hand to do so. It was Star who took the job, draping her arm around his waist in order to steady him. The kid seemed so excited by this that Marko could not help but snicker.

If Edgar had been prudent, he would have accepted the arm Dwayne held out for him to lean on. But since he was not, the boy stumbled awkwardly towards the house, ignoring the offered help, favouring each and every one around him with his glares, his own brother and Sam included.

That one certainly got a hot temper. He would be fun to play with – which did not equal fun to be with …

Thorn's angry barking started as soon as they passed the gate to the garden. Max's guard did a good job, but he was not overly fond of them, so they had to be careful around him. A hellhound could do a lot of damage, even to a vampire.

David knocked on the front door, using their special code. The barking stopped. A minute later, the door opened, and Max stepped out into the garden, Thorn at his heel.

"Hello, Boys," he said. There was actually something akin to affection in his voice. He had to be high as a kite on his happy family drug.

"It did not go as planned," David said as a greeting.

Marko raised his hand to his mouth to hide his sneer. Max absolutely hated it when one of his plans got busted.

"Yeah," Paul added, nodding hello to Max. "Dear Mikey cracked up and sent the cavalry in to off us all." He made a wide sweeping gesture, indicating towards Sam, Alan and Edgar in succession. "They very nearly got Marko. Staked him. Wasn't pretty."

Slowly, Max turned to Marko. The concern on his face was genuine. "Are you alright?" he asked, taking him by the arm and drawing his hand away from his mouth, first searching his face, then locking eyes with him.

"Yeah … sure," Marko replied haltingly.

Max's penetrating stare always made him nervous. They all were used to hearing each other in their minds and receiving orders from David that way, but Max was a different kind of animal. He was, as Sam had so nicely put it, their top bat, and none of them could hide from him. David usually accepted it when they told him to get the fuck out of their heads, but Max, naturally, did not.

Marko felt a hand on his chest and looked down to see Max smoothing his jacket aside, shoving his shirt up and inspecting the scar. There was still a sizeable dent as deep as a man's fist, and the skin was glowing an angry red. Marko felt fine, though, he really did.

"I'm 'kay," he said, tensing under Max's probing touch.

"How much blood did you need to heal that? Did it go all the way through?"

"Yeah," Marko said, "it did. It was fucking agony …" He momentarily shuddered at the recollection. "My brothers all gave me as much as they could spare. I also drank from two of the kids through them, and from one directly."

He really wished Max would stop touching him. It was somewhat embarrassing.

"It is not," Max replied to his thoughts and feelings. "I'm just checking on you. You know that, don't you?"

Marko was not so sure. Max had this thing for boys, after all …

He caught Edgar staring and could practically hear the wheels in his head turning. Now it was Marko's time to give him a glare.

Max dropped his voice, so that the mortals would not be able hear. "This time, I'm doing it right, boys. Believe me."

The doubt was apparent on all of their faces.

Max decided to change tactics. His piercing gaze turned to each of the half-vampires and mortals consecutively. "That's a very serious thing you did. Very serious indeed," he told them. There was nothing threatening in the way he looked, but his voice was like ice. Marko saw Alan shiver involuntarily as Max's gaze first lingered on him, then on Edgar.

Max turned to David. "Why did you let them live?" His tone was completely devoid of emotion.

Wow. Now _that_ was serious.

David was holding Max's gaze. "Cause I'm considering taking them in," he answered calmly. "Alan, at least. But since they are very close, I'll probably have to take the set … Even if Edgar does not seem very forthcoming at the moment."

"You gave him the blood already?" Max indicated towards Alan.

"I gave him _my_ blood," David emphasised. "I had to. He was dying."

"We'll discuss this later," Max decided. He did not sound pleased. "Come all in, now."

He held the door open for them, and they filed into the house. It was a big place, very neat and distinguished, and decorated with funky modern art and other unusual, youthful attire like a jukebox and neon signs, but Marko did not like it at all. To him, it seemed oppressive – almost like a trap.

They had all been here several times before, so David took the lead. However, he waited politely at the door of the dining room, and Max slipped past him.

"Lucy," they heard him say, "we got company. Let me introduce my boys to you. – David …"

David stepped through the door, vanishing from Marko's sight. "How do you do?" he heard David ask in a congenial voice. He imagined him bending over to Lucy, taking her hand and kissing it, for that was exactly the thing David would do in such a situation – just for the fun of it.

Marko stepped in next.

"Marko," Max said, giving him a prompting look.

Marko hated it, but he ambled over to poor Lucy and shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you," he greeted. His predatory grin seemed to unsettle her a bit.

"But, Max …" Lucy interjected the introductions. "I thought … You said they were not welcome to your shop … And now you're telling me that they're _your boys_?"

Max smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of nonchalance. "I told you … They're wild kids. Not good for the business. But the way things are progressing between the two of us, I thought you should get to know each other."

It seemed a bit too much for the woman. "And they … they're all your sons?"

"They are my sons by blood," Max replied, causing Paul to chuckle.

Max cast him a warning look, then shooed him in. "Paul."

"Howdy!" Paul waved cheerfully at Lucy.

"Howdy …" she replied in a feeble voice.

Actually, Marko was feeling kind of sorry for her. There she was, meeting with this well-off, courteous and – apart from his horrid fashion sense – reasonably good-looking guy, and, suddenly, he was conjuring a wild bunch of sons from out of nowhere …

Fortunately, they were big boys, and even if Max seemed to be thinking them in dire need of a loving motherly hand, Marko hoped that Lucy would be able to see that they had outgrown that part already.

Dwayne entered the room and was subsequently introduced. He inclined his head politely. "Good evening, ma'am."

"Good evening …" Lucy whispered.

"Now …" Max beckoned to someone out in the corridor. "Star, Laddie, come in, please. – Lucy, this is Star, and Laddie. Star's friends with my boys, and I believe she has been seeing your son."

"Has she?" Lucy muttered, eyeing Star up and down, then focusing on Laddie and his dirty, dishevelled clothes.

"Good evening, Mrs Emerson …" Star said in a friendly but subdued voice. "Say hi, Laddie."

"Hi."

"Hi ..."

Max was leaning out into the corridor now. Someone seemed reluctant to enter. "You know the Frogs already, Lucy – come in, you two, don't dawdle."

Marko was reminded of a scene in a children's book he had read many years ago, somewhere back in the fifties or early sixties, he supposed. There had been a group of thirteen dwarves, a wizard and a … something, introduced in pairs, so as not to frighten their intended host off. He had thought it quite funny, back then, and he thought it even more funny now. He laughed, but quickly muffled it behind a gloved fist as Max turned towards him with a reproachful look on his face.

In the neat, clean and candle-lit room, the Frog brothers looked horrible. They were both pale as death, and quite unsteady on their feet. Their military garb was smeared with dirt and blood, as were their faces. Lucy probably would not recognize it for blood, though, for it was of vampiric origin and had quite a different look to it. She nevertheless cast the boys a half pitying, half disapproving gaze.

Edgar stayed stubbornly silent, but Alan muttered a soft: "Hello, Mrs Emerson."

"Hello, Alan. Edgar ..." she replied, sounding unsure.

"And, finally," Max announced in a gleeful voice, "your boys."

"Michael!" Lucy got up in a rush, almost throwing her chair over, and stared at her sons in something akin to shock.

Michael was still holding Sam in his arms, who looked little better than the Frog boys. It would have been quite a strenuous effort for a mortal to lug him around like that, for Sam was no lightweight, but Michael was more than halfway through the transformation. He could carried his brother around for hours on end without tiring.

"What's wrong with Sam?!" Lucy was agitated, hurrying over to her sons and taking a close look at her youngest. "Dear me, what happened?! Why can't you walk?!"

"I'm afraid there was a little accident, earlier," Max spoke up. "But nothing to worry about, Lucy, I assure you. We will make Sam comfortable over there, and" –

Lucy did not heed him. "Is that ankle of yours broken, Sam?! Michael, what on earth …?! Did you take him out on your bike again?! Did you crash?!"

"Mum …" Michael muttered, abashed. "Will you stop talking for a minute, so … so that I can …" He seemed at a momentary loss. "Explain?" he then added, somewhat meekly.

Max was rubbing his hands, looking elated. "That's an excellent idea, Michael! Take a seat, all of you. I think we got a lot of explaining to do …"

 


	5. In Or Out

After some shuffling of chairs and hustling of uncooperative humans, at long last, all were seated around the large dining table.

Lucy was still fussing over Sam, who had his bad leg propped on a cushioned stool. Dwayne had been out visiting Max's Corvette in the garage, to go through the first aid kit and see if he could find some pain killers. He had, and was in the process of putting a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol in front of Sam.

But Lucy was having none of it. "He has to go to the hospital! You can't just stuff him with pills! That's a fracture, he needs professional help!" She was getting angrier by the minute. "And I still don't know how this happened in the first place!"

In reaction, Max was becoming irritated as well. "Lucy, will you _please_ calm down and listen to me, before" –

Lucy shoved her chair back and stood. "I most certainly will not listen to _anything_ until my son has received medical treatment! What kind of father are you, Max, to not understand that? – Michael, get your brother. We're leaving."

Now, this was going all the wrong way. David looked smug, as if to say: "I told you so." Next to Marko, Paul seemed highly amused by the display, grinning and snickering in spite of Max's reprimanding glares. Even Dwayne was cracking a smile.

Marko himself was trying uncharacteristically hard to keep his composure. Max had shown some real concern for him out there in the garden, and he knew how important this family plan was to him. Nevertheless, he could not prevent a sneer from spreading on his face, but he hid it politely behind his hand.

To Lucy's annoyed incomprehension, Michael stayed put as if glued to his chair. "Mum," he tried to appease her, "please don't. You're only making things worse." He sounded concerned.

"What's _wrong_ with you all?" Lucy was glaring down at her oldest son, hands on her hips.

"He's right, Mum," Sam piped up. He had downed his painkillers like the good kid he essentially was. "Don't. It's dangerous …"

That certainly got her attention. Slowly, she reversed back to Max, glancing at Marko and his brothers in turning, an alarmed expression on her face. "I sincerely hope this is all some kind of misunderstanding …" she said, her voice slightly trembling. "Or are you and your sons threatening us, Max? Need I be worried?"

Max had risen as well, and was extending his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Of course not, Lucy, of course not. No one is threatening you or your boys."

Edgar gave a derisive snort, and Max glared at him – threateningly, at that. Marko snickered, receiving a reproachful look from Max in turn.

"May I help clarifying?" David spoke up from his place at the table. He seemed composed as ever.

Lucy pondered him quietly, as if she suspected that something decidedly unpleasant was lurking behind his polite and calm facade. "Please do," she finally replied.

And David changed.

A shrill, terrified scream rang through the house. Lucy stared at David with wide, horrified eyes, hands held up in a gesture of defence. She stumbled back, not daring to turn her gaze away from him, and blindly groped the air to find something to hold on to. She got Dwayne by the shoulder, who allowed her without comment to steady herself by clinging to him.

"David!" Max was furious. "That was completely uncalled for!"

"No, it wasn't. It helped clarifying a lot." David, back in human form, crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't tell, show – that's my motto. Saves time, and nerves."

"Not her nerves. She's frayed! – Lucy, dear, let me explain …" Max made a step in her direction, but Lucy started screaming again.

"Don't you come anywhere near me!"

"Oh my," Paul sniggered, obviously enjoying himself. "What a mess …"

At long last, Michael found the courage to act. He got up, went over to his mother and embraced her. Initially, she was stiff as a poker, but then she threw herself at him, clutching his shoulders desperately, and started to sob.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'm sorry …" Michael muttered, stroking her back.

The guy was clearly on a guilt trip tonight.

A minute passed, during which Lucy's sobbing and her delicate, trembling form were the centre of everyone's attention.

Then Max spoke up again. "Perhaps, it would be best if you did the explaining, Michael." He seemed disgruntled, but tried to shake it off. "So, change of plans," he announced with forced cheerfulness. "Dwayne, would you please take Sam, and show the Emersons into one of the guest rooms upstairs, then come back here? Thank you."

He turned to Paul. "Paul, kindly take the Frog brothers to one guest room, and Star and Laddie to another, then join us again." Max hesitated a second. "Thorn, accompany them and keep watch on the Frogs."

The hellhound had taken lodging in his dog basket in one corner of the dining room while the bipeds assembled around the table, observing everything and everyone with keen, knowing eyes. At his master's words, he jumped up and trotted over. He appeared happy to be assigned a task, wagging his tail at Max.

Then he turned, and gave the Frogs a penetrating, ominous stare which had nothing dog-like at all.

The two brothers rose, eyeing Thorn suspiciously.

Meanwhile, Michael, Lucy and Dwayne, who was carrying Sam, were already heading towards the stairs. Lucy was practically fleeing from the room, casting distraught glances over her shoulder, her face wet with tears of fright. Michael was supporting her, murmuring consoling words and looking sick with worry.

Marko might have felt sorry for him – if Michael had not attempted to have them all killed, that was.

He turned to the Frog boys. "You better behave," Marko advised. "He can get very nasty." He nodded towards Thorn, then shoved his left sleeve back to show them an ugly, jagged scar. It looked as if a shark had tried to wrench his arm off at the elbow. It certainly had felt like that.

"I thought you suckmonkeys heal without a trace?" Edgar asked, sounding intrigued.

Marko raised his eyebrows at the insult. "We do, _poor ickle mortal thing,_ if we're hurt by what belongs to this world. But Thorn is a hellhound, and therefore part of another sphere. I wouldn't cross him, if I were you."

"We won't," Alan quickly assured. He tried to tug his brother away and over to Paul, who was bouncing on his feet with impatience, the expectantly panting Thorn at his side.

But Edgar was a persistent little bugger. He did not move an inch. "Are you saying Hell actually exists?" he asked Marko, his eyes alert.

David came over. He was smiling at Edgar, but it was a decidedly unfriendly smile. "Of course it exists," he said, matter-of-factly. "Haven't you been there already?" He gazed pointedly over at Alan, and Edgar seemed to shrink, losing his verve completely.

"Now eff off," David told him gruffly. "We haven't got all night."

During their exchange, Max had vanished into the kitchen. Now he came back, carrying two plates with steaming hot potatoes, peas and what looked like chicken with sauce. He shoved the plates into the Frogs' hands. "Take this up with you and eat. You have got to replenish."

Edgar stared at the food with disgust. "I'm not going to eat that."

Max was eyeing Edgar with distinct displeasure. "If I kill you, which I am not ruling out, mind you, it will definitely not be by poisoning your food," he stated, his voice cold.

"I didn't mean that!" Edgar snapped. He was anything but awed, yet he hesitated, considering his plate again, clearly hungry. "Okay, I'll eat the potatoes and stuff," he said, as if offering Max a favour. "But I won't eat _that_." He pointed at the chicken accusingly.

"And why not, if I may ask?" Max tilted his head. He seemed riled, yet genuinely curious.

Edgar glared at him. "Because I'm a vegetarian, damn it!"

Paul totally cracked up at this. "Oh man!" he howled. "That's … that's just …" He could not speak with laughter.

Marko was incredulous. "Uh ... You're not telling us that's the reason for your anti-bloodsucker, anti-flesheater crusade, are you? Like, some kind of vegetarian revenge or something?" he asked, snickering and shaking his head in disbelief. He felt exhilarated, yet, at the same time, scandalised. The kid had nearly succeeded in killing him, after all.

Edgar was now directing his glare of death at Marko. If he had not been holding a plate in his hands, he would certainly have crossed his arms in angry defiance.

"That would make you an interesting kind of vampire indeed," David chuckled, his face alight with amusement. "But, then again, there actually _are_ vampires who call themselves vegetarians – though you would not find them agreeable." He was flat out laughing now, accompanied by Paul, who was bubbling over, holding his sides and hiccuping.

It took David a moment to compose himself. He was still grinning like mad, as he went on: "They don't live on vegetables, they drink animal blood, and they actually think that's the right definition of vegetarianism. Gosh, they were revolting." He shuddered dramatically.

"Remember them, Dwayne? That coven of loonies we met up the West Coast back in the twenties? The really, really creepy ones …?"

"Of course I do." Dwayne was wearing a reminiscent smile on his face. It did seem a bit evil, though. "They had this knack for playing baseball during thunderstorms, and they claimed to glitter and sparkle in the sun …"

"They weren't vampires. They were fairies," David stated. Both of them guffawed at that, while poor Paul was trying not to piss himself with laughter. Even Max was smiling, albeit a bit strained.

Marko was grinning quietly. It was one of the moments in which he genuinely loved each and everyone of them.

Max addressed Edgar again. "You do not have to eat that if you don't want to," he said. "Enjoy your freedom of choice – while you still have it …" He sounded amicable, yet he was anything but. Marko could practically see the beastliness dancing in his eyes.

"You want something, too?" Max inquired, turning to Star and Laddie. The girl shook her head no, but Laddie nodded. Max went back into the kitchen, emerging with not one, but two plates of food again. "Take this to Sam," he instructed Star. "He'll need it."

Then the four were off, trailing after the still giggling Paul, and followed by a fierce and alert Thorn, who seemed ready to eat them all at any sign of misdemeanour – Paul not excluded.

Marko, David and Max remained behind in the now empty looking dining room.

David spoke first. "Are you angry with me, Maximilian?"

Now, that was special.

David and Dwayne were the only ones ever to call Max by his full name, and they did it very seldom – only when something significant had happened or was yet about to take place.

Max drew a face. "Sometimes, I can't help but thinking that you are trying to sabotage me, David. You never liked this particular plan, and now you attempted to ruin it at the last possible moment …"

"It won't work out, Max," David replied harshly. He faltered for a moment, than went over to Max and placed a hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him. As he spoke again, his voice was considerably softer. "I know how important this is to you, but it just won't work out. We're not humans, we function differently … You can't just copy their ways of living and expect it to be all sunshine and rainbows." He cast Max a long and meaningful glance.

Max shook his head, but seemed somehow pacified all the same.

Dwayne slipped silently into the room, stepping at Marko's side.

"How is she?" Max asked immediately, his voice full of concern.

"Still shaken," Dwayne replied. "But Michael's doing a good job at calming her down. Sam's helping, too."

"Do you think she's figured it out already? That we all are? Her son, too?" Marko asked.

Lucy had appeared to be okay with Dwayne leading them upstairs, but had been terrified of Max, even though it had been David who had turned, not him. If she thought the four of them to be Max's sons, she would surely come to the conclusion that they were all of a kind. Presumably, she would need a while to sort it out, though – it must have been a nasty shock for her.

"I guess so … But she needs a time-out. David frightened her half to death." Dwayne sounded almost sympathetic, and cast David a somewhat reproachful look, which was met with nothing but a blank gaze and a shrug.

A few minutes later, Paul returned from his duty. "All settled," he announced brightly.

"Now," David said, drawing a chair over and straddling it, arms resting on its back, „we're all here and we've got to decide. Who's in, who's out, and on for dinner?" He sneered.

"Lucy's in." Max's voice was authoritative. "No matter what. Therefore, Michael and Sam are in, too."

Paul said nothing, but began pacing the room in wiggly lines. He almost never stood or sat still for more than three minutes in a row.

Marko crossed his arms in front of his chest and settled on observing everyone and everything, curious how this game would play out. He gave David a half-smile, which was returned in kind.

"Michael won't be a problem," David declared. "I sent him unto a guilt trip, he'll do whatever we want in order to make amends." He seemed quite pleased with himself.

"Sam may be difficult, though," Dwayne threw in. He was still standing next to Marko, at arm's reach. "He's a decent kid, and he might adapt well to your style of living, Max, even accept you as a surrogate father – but he's just too young. I know, I shouldn't talk, but" –

"You're right, you shouldn't," Max cut him off sharply. "Laddie was a very grave mistake on your part."

Marko felt Dwayne stiffen. "Look, Maximilian, I apologized …"

"But the problem continues to exist," Max stated. He just stood there, seemingly unmoved, and waited. Marko knew exactly for what, and it made him shudder inwardly.

The four of them shared uneasy glances. Laddie was indeed a problem, there was no denying it. But they did not like the implied solution one bit.

"First things first," David said. His voice was resolute, and he was holding Max's gaze with ease. "You want Lucy and Michael – no objections. If Michael gets his head out of his ass, I might even welcome him into the pack again. If the Boys, and especially Marko, agree, that is." He gave them all an intense look in succession, lingering longer on Marko than on anyone else.

"But I agree with Dwayne: Sam may be difficult. It won't go unnoticed by his mortal environment if he suddenly stops maturing. And he won't like it to be trapped in a fourteen year old's body forever. So, I say: wait. At least for one or two years. Then you can still turn him."

"There's another thing," Marko warned. "He won't be save with his family. Lucy and Michael will not be able to control themselves around him. They will be too young, and the thirst will eventually overpower them."

Max looked pensive. "He might stay with me, if he likes, as long as he's still mortal ... I'm perfectly able to control myself."

Marko shared an uncomfortable glance with David. Apparently, they were both thinking the same thing.

"At least over nights," Max continued his thoughts. "I mean, that is what family is all about, is it not? Spending time together? I could start later in the store, and instead indulge in a bit of family life … Cooking, checking his homework, watching TV with the boy … That is what fathers do, right?" He sounded a tad uncertain.

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, man … He'll damn sure enjoy that ... Especially the homework part." He chuckled, and continued to meander through the room.

"Well," David said, "if he _is_ willing to stay with you, that might actually work. Perhaps. If you're all very lucky …"

Dear David ... always such an optimist. Marko smirked to himself.

"... and as long as you don't start fondling him," David added dryly.

Paul halted in his tracks. Everyone looked at David, then at Max.

"Gosh, David!" Max exclaimed, exasperated. "The boy is only fourteen and a half! What the hell do you think of me?"

David shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't that much older, at that time."

Max gaped at him. "You gave me the impression that you liked it, at that time," he said reproachfully.

David winked at Max. "I'm only pulling your leg. I did. Like it, I mean."

Max was galled. "Sometimes, David, I feel I should give you a hiding, you know that?"

David smiled at him nonchalantly. "Whatever. – So, that's your part of the family, Max," he summed up. "All in, we say. Star and Laddie are next."

"I'm strongly opposed to Laddie," Max proclaimed at once.

Marko saw Dwayne's face contort with fear and rage. He reached over to touch him, but Dwayne shook his hand off.

"What goes for Sam, goes for him," Max continued, momentarily oblivious to Dwayne's reaction. "The boy is even younger, only ten ... But you cannot wait much longer until fully turning him. If he does not make his first kill within the week, he will die. So, biding your time until he has grown up is not an option. And what if you turned him? Laddie would stay ten years old through all of his existence, presumably hundreds of years. He would always be a liability, and he would never be able to fend for himself. In my eyes, he has no future as a vampire."

"I won't give Laddie up!" Dwayne declared abrasively. His whole body had tensed, and he was poised to attack. Marko could feel his anger wafting off of him in waves. There was a golden glow in Dwayne's eyes, and his lips were trembling, indicating that he was short of baring his teeth at Max. Marko had never seen him that resolved and irate – apart from the day he had practically forced David to accept the child into their group, that was.

Max considered the furious vampire without answering, but he was clearly alert, ready to strike back if Dwayne should dare to assail him.

A tense silence filled the room.

After a moment of hesitation, Paul stepped beside Dwayne. "Me neither," he said, though he sounded less determined and was avoiding Max's eyes.

David sighed. "Could we please not fly at each other's throats, Dwayne? This is supposed to be a friendly exchange of opinions. Thank you."

Dwayne relaxed only by a fraction of an inch.

Irritated, David shook his head at him. "Listen, Dwayne ... If you and Paul both want to keep Laddie, and are prepared to care for him, I'm willing to give it a go." He cast Dwayne a strained smile. "It would be a shame to off him now, after all the love you invested into him."

Dwayne's mouth became a thin line. He did not reply.

Marko stayed silent a moment longer. The situation was already tense enough, but he felt bound to utter his doubts, not least in Laddie's interest.

"I'm not sure if we'll be doing the boy a favour by turning him," he finally said. "As Max pointed out, he'll be trapped in the body of a child for the rest of eternity ... He'll always be dependent on us ..."

He searched Dwayne's eyes, who returned him a cool look, deliberately keeping him out. Inwardly, Marko sighed.

"But I don't want my brother to hurt. So, if you're willing to give it a try, David, I won't oppose you."

Max shook his head. "I'm still against it."

"You're outnumbered," David asserted steadily. "And you wouldn't _force_ us to kill him – or would you?"

There was a moment of silence again.

Eventually, Max said: "No. I would not. But not because I agree with you." He cast Dwayne a sorrowful, knowing glance. "Find out for yourself – but don't come running to me when it goes all wrong."

"We won't," David assured him.

At that moment, he was the very picture of confidence, and Marko was glad that he was their leader.

"So, Laddie's in," Paul spoke up. He sounded relieved. "Now, what about Star?"

To Marko, who knew Paul better than anybody else, his friend seemed a tad nervous. It was no secret that Paul, although just as unnerved by her as everyone else, had taken to Star like one would to an older sister.

"She's of no use to the pack." David sounded dispassionate.

"She's of use to Laddie!" Paul answered back, evidently worried now.

"I refuse to take her in just to babysit Laddie," David told him coarsely. "You and Dwayne want to keep the child, you care for him. End of discussion."

Well, that had been explicit. David must be really mad at Star to brush Paul off like this.

His brother bowed his head, looking defeated.

"Paul ..." Dwayne began, but Paul interrupted him instantly.

"I don't need your pity!" he hissed, so angry and pained that Dwayne took a step back. "If ya don't wanna speak up for her …"

"I'm sorry, mate, I can't," Dwayne replied. He sounded sympathetic, yet determined. "David's right. She doesn't match us. Not in the slightest."

"And that's enough to kill her?!"

"She ratted us out, Paul," David replied, composed. "If not for her, Michael would never have acted against us. She's unsafe. I cannot endure her in the pack."

Paul turned beseechingly to Marko.

Damn, he hated to hurt his brother, but it had to be said. "I'm sorry, mate, but I agree with them. She doesn't fit. And she might be dangerous."

Paul turned away from him, looking disappointed and distressed. It sent daggers through Marko's heart, but he did not know what to do about it. Star had already sold them out once. Who could guarantee she would not do so again?

"Max?" David asked while contemplating Paul, who had his back to the group, shoulders taut, fists balled.

Max was watching Paul as well, concern apparent on his face.

"Perhaps Star could stay with the Emersons ...," he said haltingly. "She and Michael make a nice couple."

Marko noticed Paul unclenching his fists slightly.

"She's useless," David repeated. His voice was tight and angry now.

At that, Paul spun around. "Just because she crossed ya –" he began, but David cut him off.

"Don't," he said. "You know shit." His voice was full of warning.

Paul shut his mouth tight, and took a step back. He was beaten, and it showed in every fibre of his being.

Marko hesitated a second, before putting a hand on his shoulder. Paul remained stiff, but leaned into his touch all the same.

What a mess. And all because of stupid, funky Star.

Max sighed. "Alright. That's enough. I'll try and take her in, Paul. Perhaps she'll settle into it – in the long run …"

Paul looked at him, pleasantly surprised. "Thank you," he said, his voice, for once, quiet and grateful.

Max was offering a lot there. He had never fully approved of Paul, for David had not consulted him in advance, and, to Max, Paul seemed not entirely suitable to the pack. But since he was in, Max was safeguarding him just as everyone else – even if he had to oppose David, his favourite, in doing so.

David was silent for a long time. Eventually, he said: "Very well, Maximilian. As you wish."

Max cast him a long and thoughtful glance. "Very well," he finally repeated. "Let's go on, then, boys. Laddie's with you, and Star's with me. That leaves only that peculiar new interest of yours, David – the Frogs."

David hesitated before answering. "I'm not sure myself, yet."

"Then why not choose the easy way out?" Max suggested. "Kill them, and be done with it." His voice was cold.

"I don't know, Max …" David laid his chin in one hand and began drumming on the back-rest of his chair. "I'd like to expand my gang, and I find them intriguing … They're born hunters, killers even, and they're brave." He smiled, though it seemed a bit ambiguous. "It takes a lot of guts to climb down into an unknown cave and stand up to four vampires, beings you've never before met in reality, mind you … And they figured the whole vampire thing out on their own …" He paused. "Most mortals would think them crazy for believing in us, but they're not. They're clever and resourceful … If we do win them over …"

"Ya'll never win bad Ed over," Paul said, shaking his head. Now that he got what he wanted, he was almost back to normal again. Hard feelings never lasted long between the lot of them. "The brat's a pest, and he's unsafe. He's dangerous now, and he'll be even more dangerous as a half-vamp. He'll do everything it takes to free his brother and himself from what he thinks is a curse."

"Paul's right," Marko agreed. He did not like the idea of having the boy around them who had run a wooden stake through his heart. He did not like it at all. "If you even consider taking them in, it must be completed in the shortest time possible. We can't risk them running amok during daytime, taking a second try on offing us all," he declared.

Dwayne spoke up. Similar to Paul, he was back to his usual way, which meant, in his case, calm and cautious. "I think Alan might make a decent vampire. He's already adapting. But his brother …" He shook his head. "I don't know, David. I don't like it."

"We can't kill Edgar and keep Alan," David replied. "No matter how much I want to," he said, a wintry smile upon his lips. "Alan would never forgive us. It would be a hazard to have him in the pack after that."

"So, it's all or nothing, huh?" Paul stated, not sounding thrilled. He had taken up his erratic wandering through the room again. "And who's gonna babysit _them_? Dwayne and I already got Laddie, so it'll be your turn, David, and Marko's … They're really young, and they're troublesome, so it'll be one hell of a job."

"They are barely older than Sam," Max reminded them.

"Not in years," David answered. "But they're far more mature. Ever seen that poor excuse for parents snoring in the corner of their shop, doped out of their wits? Those boys likely had to look after themselves since they were toddlers. – No, I'm resolved. I want to give it a try," he decided, rising from his chair. "Anyone here completely opposed to it?"

"I don't like that Ed kid one bit," Paul said. "But if ya want to try your luck, I guess I'll have to put up with him."

"Fine with Alan, doubtful on Edgar. But let's give it a go," Dwayne stated.

Marko just nodded. "You want them, we take them."

"I'm not sure if this is reasonable …" Max sighed. "But, fine, David. Do as you please."

"So, that's all in then, ain't it?" Paul recapped. "No froggy dinner for us tonight, I guess, eh?" He snickered. "Pity …"

 


	6. Blood

Marko was already at the first floor corridor to fetch Alan, when he heard a panicked scream. It was followed by a loud bang, then a feral growl that went right through him and could only belong to Thorn. He practically flew at the door and yanked it open.

Alan was cowering on one of the two beds, which were standing on opposite walls, an expression of terror and disbelief etched onto his face. At first, Marko did not see Edgar, only Thorn, who was perched on the second bed, still snarling fiercely. Then he realized that the hellhound was on top of Edgar, who was lying spread-eagled on his back.

"What the hell …!" Marko exclaimed.

With a jolt, he noticed the metal pole on the floor. It was lying close to Alan. He searched the room with his eyes, and saw that it must once have belonged to the standard-lamp, which had been disassembled, its parts strewn carelessly onto the ground.

His gaze shot back to Alan, who looked unhurt, but shell-shocked, then to Edgar again.

Marko felt honestly unsettled. "You didn't …" he breathed, staring at Edgar in disbelief.

"We had a deal!" Edgar declared, his growl of impotent anger mingling with that of the hellhound. "One of us gets infected with no cure in sight, the other stakes him."

Marko was truly and utterly appalled. "You are one sick fuck, you know that?" he spit at Edgar.

"Look who's talking …" the kid replied through gritted teeth.

Marko did not grace him with a reply. Instead, he went over to Alan. "You okay?"

He did not consider himself a compassionate person, but having your own brother come at you with a stake … whoa.

"I don't know," Alan muttered, his voice weak. "I …" He trailed off.

"Come on," Marko said, his tone uncharacteristically soft, as he put forth his hands to help the boy stand. "I'm here to fetch you."

Without moving, Alan looked up at him. "Are you going to kill me?" His voice was flat, but Marko could sense his fear.

"No," he assured the boy. "You're a keeper." He smiled. "David wants you in."

Alan did not seem overly impressed. He rose without accepting the offered help. "What about my brother?" he asked, not looking at Edgar, but fixing his gaze onto the floor.

"I think we'll have to discuss this question anew," Marko replied, casting Edgar a dirty glare, which was, of course, returned in kind.

"Enjoy your current company!" Marko hissed at him, for once glad that Thorn was such a mean son of a bitch – quite literally, at that. The hellhound was still crouching on top of the revolting boy, teeth bared, saliva dripping onto Edgar's face in slimy threads.

Marko took Alan by the shoulder, steered him out and slammed the door shut. Silently, he prayed that Thorn would find an excuse to gobble that loathsome kid.

Alan's knees were wobbly, and he had to support himself by the walls, then the railing of the stairs. He refused to take Marko's arm, though, and shook his hand off as he once gripped the boy to steady him on the stairwell. It seemed as if his brother's attack had reanimated him somewhat to his old spirits.

Marko led him into the sitting room. It was illuminated by candles only. He smiled. They all liked a bit of theatrics.

David, Paul and Dwayne were seated in armchairs, which surrounded a low table opposing a comfy looking couch. Max was busying himself in the background. He looked up and smiled at Alan. "Welcome. Have a seat." He gestured towards the couch.

Alan hesitated. He would have to squeeze his way through between David and Dwayne if he aimed for the offered seat.

David contemplated the kid for a moment, then shifted his armchair to make room for the passage. Alan gave a strained nod of thanks, drew a deep breath, stepped forward and slipped past them to sit on the couch. Marko did not follow, but fetched himself another armchair and settled between Dwayne and Paul.

Max came over and placed a single cup of red wine and a small, ornate knife on the table. "There you are," he said, ere receding into the shadows again.

Alan looked nervous. He was avoiding their eyes.

Marko leaned over to David, and whispered: "His crackpot brother just tried to stake him with a standard-lamp pole. Perhaps …" He did not finish his sentence.

For a split second, David's face contorted into a grimace of rage. But he composed himself quickly.

"I'm going to fry that rat," he hissed under his breath.

Then, David turned to Alan. As he spoke, his voice was calm. "Since I don't want you to freak out, I'll explain what's going to happen to you." He leaned over and took the knife without interrupting his speech. "It'll be different from what you may have heard from Michael or Star." David cut his wrist, and let a few drops of his blood fall into the cup. It mingled with the wine, staining it a deeper red. He then handed the knife and cup over to Dwayne.

"You've already drunk my blood, so, technically, you're by now in the process of turning," David continued, while Dwayne's blood was slowly dribbling into the cup and merging with the wine. "We could simply wait, and in a couple of days, at the latest two or three weeks, the thirst would force you to make your first kill."

It was Marko's turn now, and he watched meditatively as the drops fell and tainted the alcohol.

"The change would be gradual and highly unpleasant, because your body itself would become the battlefield on which the mortal and the eternal wage their war. In the end, the vampiric blood would overpower everything human and take its price."

David paused, and cast Paul a prompting look, who was holding the cup and staring dreamily at the streaks of Marko's blood which were dancing through the red liquid. On David's calling, he jolted awake, took the knife, hesitated a second, then opened his vein and added to the drink.

"But that's not the plan," David stated. "In your case, I have neither the time nor the patience to tarry that long. We're aiming for quick results here, so we're going to extract as much of the mortal blood as possible from your body. The vampiric blood will resist the drain, and it will take over swiftly and completely as soon as most of its antagonist is gone for good."

"Where's the catch?" Alan murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

"The catch," David replied, "if you chose to call it so, is that your body is required to shut down entirely for this to work."

At Alan's look of confusion, he specified: "That means that you need to die. You will only be dead for about twenty-four hours, but you will be dead all the same."

Alan looked horrified. He gulped. "Do I have any say at all in this?" he whispered.

David considered him carefully.

"Not now," he answered after a moment of hesitation. "I want you to complete the transformation tonight. Afterwards, you'll take a good look at what we've got to offer. If you truly and honestly detest it, I promise that I'll put you out of your misery – but I request you to try for at least a month."

"A month?!" Alan breathed and shook his head numbly. "How many people will I have murdered by the end of a month?"

"As a newcomer, approximately eight," David answered, a Siamese smile upon his lips. "Although it might be possible to lower the body count a bit with Max's help."

Alan said nothing, but he looked as if he was about to be sick. It did not get better when David rose and neared him with the knife.

"Give me your hand," he demanded, and, hesitantly, Alan complied.

The boy drew in a sharp breath as David cut across his palm, then held it over the cup to add a few drops of Alan's blood to the concoction. The others shifted nervously at the sight and smell.

Then, David raised the cup and toasted Alan. "To eternal brotherhood!" He took a sip and promptly shuddered, lids closed, lips slightly parted. When he opened his eyes again, he was smiling. He passed the cup on to Dwayne, and they all drank in succession, toasting Alan and shivering with the pleasure of the blood.

Finally, David took the cup back. There was only a little left in it. "Drink!" he requested, and handed it to Alan.

The boy faltered, and they began to chant his name, coaxing, alluring ... At last, he downed the liquid, and they all cheered as he trembled and moaned with the intoxicating sensation.

David looked delighted. "I got you a treat," he announced, "to make things a bit more pleasurable."

He snapped his fingers, and Star slid into the room. David must have called out to her without notifying them. Likely, she had stood there for minutes, and overheard everything that had taken place.

"Star," David greeted her with an offish air, "this is your last chance. You know damn well what's expected of you, so get the fuck going."

Although the girl seemed ready to cry, this time, she did not oppose David. Silently, she squished herself through between him and Dwayne, and settled on the couch next to Alan.

The kid looked at her with mingled fear and excitement. She was beautiful, after all, with wide, wet eyes and glossy lips, face caressed by brown tresses, body wrapped in her usual loose garments. She smiled at him sadly, and extended a hand to touch his face. Alan did not recede, and she petted him, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Marko felt a little uncomfortable. This was intimate, after all, and they were all sitting and watching as if it were some kind of peep-show.

"Don't look at me," Star whispered to Alan. "Close your eyes."

The boy hesitated for an instant. His gaze wandered through the room, lingering on each of its occupants in succession. Marko held it steadily. There was fear, but also something akin to curiosity and, definitely, arousal.

Marko could not help but smirk, but hid it quickly.

Eventually, Alan took one last look at Star, admiring her for a long moment. Then he closed his eyes tightly.

Even though she had never done it before, it took Star only a second to transform. Her features became angled, her teeth elongated, and her eyes changed to the colour of the setting sun. She was still beautiful, but in a terrible way. She gripped Alan's face, turning it to the side for easier access to the artery. Then she descended on his neck, biting down hard.

Alan groaned, but kept his eyes firmly shut. Blood was spilling over Star's lips, dribbling down below his throat and into his neckline. The kid twisted under her weight, but she had him pinned securely.

Marko was somewhat impressed. Now that she had finally made a start, Star seemed fairly apt at killing.

After roughly one minute, Alan stopped wriggling. His breathing became flat and rushed. He was on the brink of loosing consciousness, but appeared to be struggling against it.

"Let go, Alan," David commanded. His voice was hypnotic. "It's okay. Everything's okay. Just let go. Alan, let go …"

The boy drew a shuddering breath. Then, his whole body relaxed. He was obviously unconscious now. Only seconds, and his heartbeat began to stutter. Then, it stopped altogether.

Moments later, Star retreated, wiping her chin. Her face was still that of a lioness, wild, predatory and blood-stained. All in all, it had taken her barely two minutes to make her first kill.

"At long last …" David commented derisively. "See? That wasn't so difficult, now, was it?"

Star did not answer immediately. She caressed Alan's lifeless face once more, then rose to her feet.

"You got what you wanted, David. Now, leave me alone." She slipped past the Boys and made for the stairwell.

After a second of hesitation, Max turned to follow her. "I'll make sure she's alright."

David just nodded, a look of deliberate indifference on his face, and went to check on Alan. "Dead as a doornail," he stated. "But for the spark."

He was referring to something only a vampire could perceive: the silent work of the blood, which would turn Alan's inanimate corpse into one within twenty-four hours.

"Marko, would you mind …?" David asked. "I want him back up. And I want that dork down here."

Marko did not mind. In fact, he was pretty keen on seeing for himself how Edgar was faring. He would likely be drenched in drool by now, and almost unconscious from Thorn's death-breath …

Marko smirked.

He hoisted the lifeless form of Alan into his arms. The kid seemed quite dead, arms and legs dangling, head lolling to the side. But David was right, of course: Marko could sense the spark of energy, too. It was slowly working its way through all of the dead body's systems, restoring what it needed to flourish, discarding what was of no use to it.

He left the living room, climbed the stairs, and made for the door behind which Edgar and Thorn still were enjoying each other's company.

"Thorn?" he announced himself before entering. He was not in a hurry now, and he would rather not be attacked by the hellhound.

Of all the Boys, the beast liked Marko least. They had once played a cruel prank on him, and Marko had been the one to act it out. Thorn had assaulted him viciously as he had not fled fast enough, foolishly underestimating the abilities of the creature, and repaid him in kind by mangling his arm for good.

By now, Marko understood that it had been well-deserved. However, he did by no means wish to repeat the experience, so he had settled on careful courtesy towards Thorn.

The hellhound gave one short bark of acknowledgement. Marko entered with his burden, and took in the view. It was absolutely hilarious.

Edgar was still on his back, and Thorn was sitting erect on the upper part of his body, tongue lolling as he panted. The hellhound seemed most satisfied with his work. As Marko had expected, Edgar's forefront was soaked with drivel. His face was glistening with it as well, and wore an expression of absolute disgust. He looked positively nauseous. Thorn had apparently not allowed him to move an inch since Marko had left them.

"Good evening to you, Edgar," Marko greeted with mock friendliness. "Everything to your satisfaction? Enjoying your stay?"

Edgar's hateful glare caught on the lifeless body in Marko's arms. He gasped. "Let me up!" His voice was urgent. After a short pause, he added, looking beseechingly at Marko: "Please. _Please_ let me up to check on my brother?"

Marko gave no reply. Let him fry, he thought. It was time for revenge.

"Please!" Edgar repeated. He was on the verge of hysterics now. " _Please_ , Marko, let me check on him!"

"Oh, it's Marko now, is it?" the vampire taunted. "What happened to suckmonkey and devil's spawn, eh?" He sneered. "Well, asshole, your brother doesn't need your checking any more. Or are you planning to check with a metal pole again?"

A spasm went through Edgar's body. It took Marko a moment to realize that the boy was sobbing. His whole form was shaking with it.

Marko hesitated. He hated to give in, but in contrast to the kid, he wasn't a complete dickhead. "Ah, fuck you," he said at long last. "But, fine ... Thorn, would you be so kind as to let Edgar up?"

Grudgingly, the hellhound complied and jumped down to the floor.

Edgar was instantly on his feet and over at Marko's side, who was placing Alan on the bed with some care.

"Oh God!" Edgar said, jerking his head in disbelief. He made as if to touch his brother, but his hand froze in mid-air, hovering over the body. Alan's eyes had slid halfway open in death. They had not yet begun to glaze over, but it was apparent that there was no life in them. "Oh God!" Edgar repeated. "What have you done to him?!" He finally touched Alan, but pulled his hand away quickly as it met with cold and clammy skin.

"He will wake again," Marko said. "Tomorrow night, he will be one of us."

Edgar shook his head frantically. "No. No, no, no …"

"Snap out of it!" Marko felt his temper rise again. "Your wailing won't change a thing!"

He grabbed Edgar by the arm and yanked him up. "It's your turn now!"

It could have been the other way round … His brothers might now be standing over his own crumpled, lifeless body, or he might be mourning Paul, or David, or Dwayne …

To hell with that kid!

Marko turned sharply and dragged Edgar after him, who did not fight, but stumbled blindly through the darkness of the corridor, with Thorn jogging at their side. Marko pulled the boy roughly down the stairs, then jostled him into the living room. Edgar lost his footing and fell down on his knees.

"Look what the cat brought in …" Paul snickered.

"More civilized now, are we?" David commented Edgar's kneeling position on the floor.

He went over to the boy, bearing down upon him like a bird of prey. "I got no patience for you!" he hissed, his face contorting into its vampire form. He jerked Edgar up by the hair, and sliced his own wrist open with his fangs, instantly pressing the bleeding wound to the boy's mouth. To speed things along, Paul sauntered over and cut off the kid's air-supply by pinching his nose. It was to swallow or to suffocate, and even though Edgar fought it, his body betrayed him in the end. He choked and spluttered, but he gulped David's blood down.

In that very moment, Max re-entered the room, leading Laddie by the hand. Both seemed highly distrustful of each other.

"There you go, Laddie," David said, and cut the vein on Edgar's neck open with a swift motion of one of his claws. Edgar hissed and tried to shake David off, but without result.

Laddie made a soft, longing noise. Edgar's eyes went wide with horror as the child transformed and literally flew at him, sinking his teeth into his neck with a delighted squeal. Edgar trashed and bucked, but to no avail – David had him firmly locked into position.

Something about that picture was slightly disturbing. Edgar's unusual and complete silence as he fought desperately for his life made it even more so.

Marko exchanged a glance with Dwayne, who apparently felt the same. They were all lackadaisical to violence, but it was somewhat different to see a ten year old act like this.

It was over in two minutes, though. Laddie disentangled from Edgar, licking his bloody lips, and smiling with cheerful innocence at Dwayne, who, in reaction, shifted uneasily on his feet.

Marko could sense that his brother was seriously unsettled. He had wanted to keep the child, and fought tooth and nail for him, yet the first clash with reality was anything but beautiful.

There was a muffled thud as David let the body hit the floor. "I need some air," he declared. "Ready to hit the road, Boys?"

"That is a wonderful idea, David," Max spoke up, stepping out of the shadows and into their circle. He was all smiles. "You can take Sam to the hospital, and Michael to feeding, and Star and Laddie for a joyride ... I want to spend some quality time with Lucy."

 


	7. Patching Things Up

Dwayne was driving Max's Corvette down the highway to Watsonville. Sam was sitting next to him, wrapped in a blanket, his maimed limb propped up and stabilized by several cushions. There was a hospital in Santa Carla, of course, but it was run by Dominican nuns and decorated with tons of crosses. He _could_ have entered the building if he absolutely needed to, even without an invite, but he would have felt watched and uncomfortable the whole time. So he had chosen to make for the Community Hospital next town. It was only a twenty minute drive, after all, probably less in the Corvette.

Max had thrown in his car as an added bonus. None of them had been keen on babysitting Sam while the others went feeding. Therefore, Max had rewarded Dwayne for his self-conquest with the rare treat of allowing him to drive his beloved vehicle. He would never have given it to Paul, though, even if he _had_ volunteered – which he hadn't.

It would not have been advisable to have Paul run rampant with the mortal boy, anyhow. He would probably have messed it up – the mission, the car and the kid, that was. David would not have done this job under any circumstances, and Marko still needed to patch up a bit. Consequently, Dwayne had been the only one left.

He was quite content with his fate, though. He liked to take a leave from their gang from time to time, and he was enamoured with the Corvette. Until now, he had only driven her twice, and she was such a beauty …

"Can I …" Sam cleared his throat and began anew. "Can I ask you something?"

The kid had been quiet till they reached the highway, silently studying Dwayne with careful, sidelong glances.

"Sure," Dwayne replied. He did not mind the boy. If he had been in Sam's place, he would have had loads of questions.

He turned the radio down a bit – more out of politeness than need, for he would have heard Sam fine even if it had been blaring on maximum volume. Their ears were as sharp as those of any predator. They could even hear ultrasonic sounds, and it was easy for them to filter some things out and tune in to others.

It was similar with the other senses. They could see ultraviolet, and their brain was capable of processing more images per minute than a human one ever could. Hence, they noticed a lot more detail, and their vision was as if on fast forward, which made their reactions very quick – often too quick for humans to even see what they were doing until it was too late for them. Touching someone or something send a trillion of impulses through their system, and taste and smell, ah … well, if you were new to the thing, it could be somewhat overpowering.

Beside him, Sam was still uncertain. "Uh … you're not going to accidentally eat me or something, are you?" he asked, his eyes wide.

Dwayne chuckled. He found the kid enjoyable.

"No. I won't."

"Not even if I make you mad? Unintentionally, that is?"

Dwayne looked at him, amused. "I promise: I won't. Not even unintentionally." He winked at the boy, which seemed to make Sam even more nervous.

Somehow, Dwayne got the feeling that this was a typical start for a conversation between Sam and his brother. Minus the eating-part, perhaps – at least before Michael's run-in with their gang.

"Okay …" Sam said, clearing his throat again. "Uh … Edgar and Alan … What happened to them?" He appeared to be thinking the worst.

"David had them turned."

Sam whistled. "Wow. That's ... wow. They … they won't like that … – How ... how did they take it? Are they alright?"

Dwayne shrugged his shoulders. "Alan took it in stride. I guess he'll adapt. Edgar … not so much."

Sam was clearly worried. "The Frogs ... They're kind of ..." He hesitated. _"Determined_. Edgar might even stake Alan, than himself, if he gets the chance …"

"Interesting to hear that." Dwayne was smiling, but without humour. "He actually had a go at his brother, but Thorn tackled him in time."

"Whoa …!" Despite his talk about froggish determination, Sam appeared a bit shocked. "That's ... well, nasty. I mean, like, real nasty. Uh ... Where are they now?"

"Asleep. In separate rooms." David had thought it safer that way, and Dwayne heartily agreed.

"Why … uh … why did you choose to turn them and leave me alone? Or am I still going to be ...?" Sam looked slightly anxioux.

"It was mainly David's choice. If he hadn't wanted them, they would have been fodder." He gave the boy a meaningful glance. "You, too, if it hadn't been for Max and his family plans. We don't take kindly to intruders, you know, especially not if they try to off us."

Sam gulped. "I'm sorry." He seemed genuine, whatever the cause for that.

Dwayne shook his head, still uncomprehending. "What the hell were you thinking when you went in there? You truly believed you got a chance against us? And why even go for us in the first place? What did we ever do to you?"

Sam was looking uncomfortable now. "Well, you tried to take my brother … Max tried to take my mother … I had to do something to protect them!"

Dwayne gave a derisive snort.

"Yeah, and Max would've taken you, too. He still will, once you've grown a bit. So, nothing accomplished, but havoc wreaked. Everyone's livid with Michael, with Star, with the Frogs and you. The Frogs have been turned, though we never would have touched them if they hadn't crossed us. We leave local residents well at peace if they don't make themselves a nuisance. You and your mother are still going to become vampires. Star and Laddie are fully turned now, Michael will be this night … Oh, and David broke your ankle. Impressive list of achievements, don't you think?" He smirked at the boy.

Sam was grinning despite himself, though it was lopsided and not happy at all. "I'm feeling kinda depressed right now ..."

On the radio, Laura Branigan started singing "Self Control". Dwayne continued to smirk. How fitting …

They both listened in on the music for a moment.

_In the day, nothing matters._

_It's the night time that flatters._

_In the night, no control._

_Through the wall something's breaking,_

_Wearing white as you're walkin'_

_Down the street of my soul._

"I'm gonna give you the talk now." Dwayne laughed out loud as Sam's ears seemed to heat, becoming red at the tips. "The vampire talk, you dork," he taunted him lightly. "There are things you need to know. You're going to live very close to us from here on, after all …"

Sam was silent.

"First," Dwayne began. The boy seemed attentive. He'd better be, for his life might well depend on the information he was given right now. "You need to be very careful around the newly turned ones – your mother and brother included. They've little control over their instincts and might end up accidentally killing you."

Sam gulped and blanched a bit. He did not reply, but no reply was needed, at that.

"Under no circumstances are you to be alone with them – any of them. Not with Star or Laddie, not with your friends Edgar and Alan, not with your brother, not even with your mother. Understood?"

The boy nodded numbly.

"Good. – Second. You're going to stay with Max from now on to ensure your safety, and you will not visit your family or your friends without him, or David, or Marko, or me watching over you."

Sam seemed not overzealous, but signalled his agreement all the same. He appeared as if he wanted to say something, so Dwayne gave him a prompting look.

"What about Edgar and Alan?" Sam asked. "Where are they going to stay?"

"With us."

Sam pulled a face. "Oh, they're _so_ going to love this ..." he muttered.

A human might not have heard him, but Dwayne did, and he sneered. Yes, the Frogs were going to enjoy their stay. David would make sure of that ...

The kid was looking worried now. "If ... if I have to move in with Max, can I … can I at least keep Nanook?"

"Nanook?"

"Yeah, my dog."

Dwayne shrugged his shoulders. "You'll have to ask Max."

Sam's face fell. Apparently, he thought it unlikely that Max would agree. Perhaps it was time to polish up the picture of their shadow leader.

"Max's not a twat," he assured the boy, despite of Sam's disbelieving expression. "His pleasantness is not a mask. If you ask for something within reason, he's fairly accessible. And he's fond of dogs. If Thorn and Nanook do get along, I guess there'll be no problem. Max's aiming at a happy family, after all, so he wouldn't take something from you which you love – if it can be avoided."

Dwayne continued with the rules. "Third. If you're for some reason hanging around with us, with David and us Boys, that is, then try to stay away from Paul. He does drugs like others do sweets. He's unstable, and he might mistake you for food when he's on a trip. David's save, if you don't annoy him. Me, too. Be careful around Marko, though. He has a pretty cruel streak."

The boy was listening intently. Dwayne hoped he would memorize everything, so that trouble could be avoided. It was unlikely, however. Keeping a mortal around a bunch of vampires while aiming at him staying alive and relatively unharmed equalled trouble.

"Fourth. _Never_ provoke any of us. This, again, includes your mother, your brother and your friends. Do not rile any of them, not even in jest. If you absolutely have to throw a teenage tantrum, do it in front of Max, or David, or me. We're the oldest and can usually rein ourselves in. I wouldn't recommend David, though. He'll not kill you, but he may give you a hiding you'll never forget …"

They were entering Watsonville. The radio had changed to "Stayin' Alive" from the BeeGees.

"Fifth. Obedience is crucial to survival. If a vampire tells you to shut up, or back off, or get lost, you do exactly that, and as quickly as you can. It doesn't matter whether said vampire is your brother, or your friend, or only ten years old. You just do it, and without talking back."

Sam was looking worried now. He'd better be. Dwayne would be surprised if the boy made it for more than a month before the shit hit the fan. It was almost unavoidable.

He pulled up in front of the hospital. "I guess I'll have to carry you again."

Sam gave him another lopsided grin. "You know that's kinda weird? You guys all lugging me around like I was a toddler or something?"

Dwayne smirked back at him. "Last time, so enjoy. They'll present you with a cast and crutches to hobble around all by yourself …" He proceeded to scoop Sam up, and felt him wince and stiffen at his touch.

"That fucking hurts," the kid complained through gritted teeth.

"Guess the painkillers are wearing off, then …"

Presumably, the ache was not the only reason for him tensing up, but Dwayne couldn't care less.

He entered the hospital with Sam upon his arms. The boy was quickly ushered onto a stretcher and taken away for x-raying, while Dwayne was filling in a form at the reception. He gave Sam's real name – there was no need to hide it.

A good hour later, during which Dwayne had skimmed through some magazines and entertained himself by playing mind tricks on the poor sods who were about to use the restroom, the boy was back. He was in a wheelchair, his leg in a cast, crutches balanced upon his knees. The caregiver pushing him in was a nice and neat looking female. Dwayne started to flirt with her, but she was called off for an emergency after no more than five minutes. Pity.

On the way back to Santa Carla, Sam started probing him for details about the members of their pack. He appeared to have a special interest in Marko.

Dwayne hesitated. But what harm could it be?

"So you're curious about Marko, eh …?" Dwayne asked with a Siamese smile. He himself was very fond of Marko, almost as fond as of David.

"He's been with us, that's David and me, for almost twenty years, now. We picked him up in Frisco in 1967. It was the so-called Summer of Love. Haight-Ashbury was swarming with runaway kids, drugged, hungry, easy trusting … We had a feast there, our very own, very special Summer of Love."

Dwayne smirked reminiscently, which seemed to make Sam a bit uneasy.

"David quite literally scraped Marko off the gutter. He was half starved – not David, Marko, I mean. Marko was fascinated by us. We used to transform in front of drugged hippies, giving them a real bad trip … We did not always eat them, though. More often, we did it just for the fun. But when Marko saw, he sensed something in us … He was not as delusional as many of the others. He had had a tough life, surviving on petty crime for the last few years, sometimes working as a hustler – but don't tell him I told you that, and try to not think of it when you meet him, for else he might pick it up from your mind."

Of course, the kid would not be able to control his thoughts, and Marko would pick it up anyway. Dwayne was sure that hilarity would ensue ...

Sam's cheeks had become flushed, and he was shifting in his seat. Clearly, the image of Marko as a fancy boy had tipped something. Dwayne studied him curiously. The kid was avoiding his eyes. Interesting, that.

After a minute of making Sam really uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze, Dwayne grinned at him and continued his tale.

"So, Marko was by no means innocent when he met us. Apart from everything else, he had already murdered someone at the age of seventeen. In the summer of 1967, he was barely twenty-two. We fooled around with him for a few weeks, then David decided he wanted him. So he got him."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

They were silent for a few minutes. The radio was playing something by "Twisted Sister" now.

Eventually, Sam said: "What about Paul?"

"Paul …" Again, Dwayne held off. Paul's turning was a somewhat sensitive subject.

"Paul was different," he finally stated. "Marko intended him for food, nothing more. Well, we _did_ spent a night together at a concert at the Boardwalk … Must have been three years ago, by now. Hot summer night … Paul was half bugged out from the shit he'd been taking. He was barely able to talk, but he was laughing his head off all the time. It was funny as hell. After the concert, we went down to the beach. Paul was pretty stoned, and we added some alcohol on top of it. Marko seemed to … uh … like him somewhat, but not enough to spare him. That hardly ever happens, anyway. Hence, Marko had his way with him and was just about to eat him, when he was suddenly stopped by David. He had decided impromptu that Paul was a keeper. So we kept him."

Sam didn't say anything to that, but he looked thoughtful.

They were almost at the Boardwalk, now. Dwayne pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car.

"Come on, you," he prompted, while holding the door on the passenger's side open, so that Sam could climb out. "For now, that's enough vampire talk."

Sam had some trouble in sorting his crutches, but, at long last, he managed to stand and began to hobble off, while Dwayne locked the Corvette.

The lights of the Boardwalk were enchanting the night, immersing the crowd in ever moving colours, lights and shadows. Handicapped as he was, Sam would have had some trouble navigating through the bustling masses if it hadn't been for Dwayne. People avoided coming near him and his brothers. Though there senses were dull, they could still feel that something was off about them, and they made room for him to pass wherever he turned. Sam was following in his wake, still figuring out how best to move on the crutches.

Dwayne could sense the others. David, Paul, Marko and Michael were walking up the beach. Star and Laddie where somewhere near the carousel. They all were moving in his direction to meet with them.

Star and Laddie showed up first. The boy seemed more happy than Dwayne had ever seen him, sporting a broad smile on his face and waving cheerfully as soon as he spotted them. In contrast, Star was self-contained. Her thoughts appeared to be elsewhere – probably still on the Frog boy she had drained earlier that night. Dwayne nodded towards her in greeting, then extended his arms to lift Laddie up, who came jumping at him, giggling as Dwayne swung him through the air, then heaved him onto his shoulders.

David was gliding through the crowd to hook up with them, his brothers tailing him. Paul was bouncing along gaily, chatting with Marko. The latter had a highly amused, yet slightly evil smile painted on his face. They seemed to be making fun of Michael, who looked gruff and was not meeting anyone's eyes.

On reaching Dwayne, David slapped his back robustly to say hello. He looked Sam up and down, then turned to Dwayne again. "He all fixed?"

"Yeah. The doc said he needs to wear the cast for four weeks, though."

David seemed unperturbed.

"Michael's finally made it," he announced. "Got himself a meal and gutted it all nice."

Sam appeared disquieted. He looked at his brother searchingly, but Michael, again, refused to meet his eyes.

"So you're done?" Dwayne asked. "I can go eat now?"

Sam's gaze scurried over to him. He was either not happy to be left with the current company, or he did not like the idea of Dwayne feeding. Well, he would have to get used to these things.

"Off you go," David disbanded him, a slight smile playing upon his lips, and Dwayne gladly immersed into the crowd and the night.

 


	8. Undying Family

Vampirism was both a gift and a curse. Max wanted to shield his new family from the curse, though. He was old, and he was powerful, and he was going to do everything he could to keep it on the gift side for them.

He had taken Sam into his home to keep him safe. It would not do to let him run with the other boys. They might play nice for a while, but, eventually, their nature would overpower them, and Sam would end up dead. Max did not want that. It would devastate Lucy. In addition, he really liked the boy. Certainly, he had been annoyed when Sam and his friends had tried to expose him, and even more annoyed when he had learned that they had gone so far as to attack his Boys in their lair and actually stake Marko. But, then again, it showed that they were a clever bunch of kids. And he liked smart boys …

Max had given Sam free run of the house. The only place he was not allowed to go was the storm cellar, in which Max slept during the day. Sam had been permitted to chose one of the rooms on the first floor, and he had moved in with all his belongings the night after the Frogs had been turned. His dog Nanook was on friendly terms with Thorn, who was not really a dog, but could communicate like one if he wished to. He had asserted his claim on Max and the house and grounds, and Nanook had accepted it without conflict. The dog seemed to be perfectly happy as long as he was with Sam, and did not cause any trouble at all. Max was very pleased with that, for he could see how fond Sam was of the animal. It would not do at all to rob him of Nanook.

It had been a month now, and his undying family was prospering. Naturally, there were still things that had to be sorted out, but, in general, everything was fine – at least, as far as his part of the family was concerned.

Lucy was still staying at her father's place. It would have been dangerous for Sam if she lived with them, and she understood that. After all, her boys were still her number one priority. Michael was living with her, however, and they had taken Star in. Lucy and Star got along well. They were both motherly women, though Star was, of course, still young and somewhat wild. As soon as she matured a bit, she would be great as an older sister to his Boys.

He had seen that in her as he first noticed her at the Boardwalk, as he watched how she interacted with Laddie, whom she had picked up somewhere because he had had no one to care for him … Max had liked that. It had reminded him of the girl in that book David loved so much – Wendy was her name. Max had thought that Star could be David's Wendy, caring for him and the other Boys, taming them a bit in the process. They needed taming for sure.

It had been alright for as long as there had only been David and Dwayne. Max had sired David, his beautiful boy, back in 1906, when he had been fatally hurt by the earthquake. Four years later, Dwayne had been taken in as a brother for him – on Max's approval, it went without saying. Dwayne, of half Native American, half Irish descent, was a nice boy, quiet, reasonable and restrained. He had been in some trouble when David had found him, but Max's money had sorted that out, and, afterwards, Dwayne had never caused any hassle again. He was just the type of brother David needed.

The three of them had travelled the States, then the world together for decades, sometimes staying for years in places they liked. But although they did not change on the outside, his boys had grown up into men. He had not been able to tether them to him forever. They would, naturally, be linked to each other eternally, and he would always love them, but sometime in the sixties, they had stretched their wings and flown.

Max had felt lonely after that. He had chosen to settle down in Santa Carla again, the town he had lived in when he found David. It held many good memories.

David and Dwayne had roamed the US and taken on a wild style of living and killing, which was not suited for a vampire who wanted to stay stationary. They had picked up Marko and turned him, which had made matters worse, for Marko was rambunctious. He was like a feral animal which refused to be tamed, biting the hand that fed it – which, in this case, happened to be Max's hand. It had been the taking of Marko that had given David the idea of a gang, a pack of his own. Henceforth, they had called themselves The Lost Boys.

They had come to join Max in Santa Carla in 1981, and, since then, they were causing nothing but trouble. Three years ago, they had made the mistake to choose Paul for their pack, another wild one, and, above that, a stark mad, first-rate drug addict. Things had gone pretty much downhill from there.

Max had raised David and Dwayne as civilized vampires, able to blend in with humans, willing to control themselves. He had educated them with travels, literature, opera, theatre … But now, with Marko and Paul, they were like a bunch of rascals. He still loved them, even Marko and Paul, at least, somehow, but he also sought to bring them under control again. They had earned Santa Carla the unofficial title of murder capital of the world in no more than five years of their stay. Max did everything he could to cover up for them, but he had spotted FBI agents already. Although he had built up a fortune and excellent connections throughout the five centuries of his existence, he would not be able to hush things up for much longer if the Boys continued their carefree style of living and, especially, killing.

Max emerged from the storm cellar and made for the garden. He could hear woofing and growling from outside, but it was interspersed with Sam's laughter. Max pulled the curtains aside and opened the French windows to the porch. Sam was rolling on the grass, wrestling with both Thorn and Nanook. His cast had come off three days ago, and he was already fairly fit again.

Max watched them, smiling. Sam snatched at Thorn's legs, overthrowing him. If anyone else had tried to do that, the hellhound would have ripped his head off. But now, he just jumped up again, allowing Sam to cuddle him roughly.

"Good evening," Max spoke from out of the shadows.

Sam quickly turned and gave him a somewhat lopsided grin. "Evening …"

The boy was still a little wary around him. Max could not blame him for that. He supposed it was a bit like being a rabbit forced to share a cage with a lion.

"Would you give me a hand in the kitchen?" he asked. "Lucy and Star will be here shortly. I thought we could cook something …"

Naturally, he, Lucy and Star did no longer have to eat. But they still could, and he liked the scent, taste and texture of food. It was not nourishing to them, but with their over-heightened senses, it was an agreeable experience all the same. Besides, he did not wish Sam to grow up on pizza and French fries.

"Will Mike be over, too?"

Max sighed inwardly. "I suppose not," he replied.

Sadly, Michael still did not like him. He was protective of his mother and younger brother, and seemed to think that Max had somehow stolen them from him. For now, Max let him be. He hoped that Michael would overcome his aversion when he realized that Max honestly cared for his family.

At present, Lucy's eldest spent most of his time with the Boys, though they still jabbed and stabbed at him for betraying them. David did not forgive such a thing easily.

Lucy and Star had become friends, and Lucy had cajoled Michael to grudgingly accept the girl into their household. The young people were still sorting out their differences, but it appeared to be getting better between them – at least, Max hoped so. He would still have liked to see Michael and Star as a couple, or, at least, as something akin to brother and sister.

Max, Lucy, Star and Sam spent almost every evening together. They met at Max's place most of the time, but, occasionally, they had also been at Lucy's. Her father was getting on Max's nerves, though. The old weirdo was constantly watching them whenever they were at his house.

Max had known Elias Emerson for more than twenty years. Elias was one of those who were aware. However, he had never done anything about it or against them, so Max and the Boys had let him be.

The old man did not take kindly to the change in his daughter and grandson, but he accepted the results and had no intention to inflict harm upon them. For Max, that was fair enough. He had half-heartedly offered to turn Elias, but had received only a grunted "No, thanks, I'll pass." in reply.

The man was over seventy now. He might die any day anyway. One night, he had actually declared, that, if he was accidentally killed by his siblings – "Can't be worse than a heart attack, I figure." –, he wanted them to have him stuffed and put him on the front porch as a kind of scarecrow. Max was not entirely sure he had been joking.

The Frog brothers were another nuisance …

Max smiled at Sam, though he was sure it looked a bit strained. "I asked David and the Boys to escort Alan and Edgar over. I have to talk with them about custody and their shop."

On top of everything, David had thought it a formidable idea to let the Frogs have their own parents as first kills. In contrast to what he might have expected, Alan and Edgar did not seem to be overly devastated by that. Their makers had been useless, after all, most likely too far gone to ever show their sons something akin to love or even care.

So, no great loss – but it had forced Max to apply for custody of Alan and Edgar. He had founded his application with the explanation that the boys were the best friends of the son of his soon to be wife. Since he was a well off, respected member of society with a seat in the town council, it had been no problem to achieve it.

The Frogs were still staying with the Boys, though. The two rooms in Max's house which were furnished with their belongings acted only as pretence if the agency ever chose to make a control visit.

Alan was settling well into his new form of existence. In fact, he reminded Max a bit of a younger Dwayne. The boy did not talk much, at least not to him. He was calm and controlled – the very opposite of his brother, who had the Boys boiling over with anger on a nightly basis with his attitude.

If it had not been for Alan, who still seemed to care for him, Edgar would have been dispatched by now. However, Alan was moving further and further away from his brother, befriending Dwayne and Paul, getting along reasonably well with David and Marko, and attaching himself to Laddie. Perhaps, soon, Edgar would no longer be needed …

All things considered, Max would not throw himself in front of the boy to safe him. He was a complete nettler, a tedious nagger, a danger even, so unstable that he threatened to expose them all. If he did not get a grip on himself shortly, there would be no way he could be allowed to live.

XXX

Dinner was, at best, awkward. Edgar managed to ruin the atmosphere all by himself. Max had made an earnest effort and cooked an all-vegetarian meal, for although the boy could not help drinking blood, he still refused to eat meat. But Max need not have bothered, since, in fact, Edgar refused to eat anything.

"Stop acting as if things were normal!" Edgar growled, as soon as Sam and Max brought dinner in. "Stop acting as if _you_ were normal!"

Lucy gave the boy a look that clearly said: "Poor dear …" She smiled sympathetically. "Edgar, I know you're upset – the change, your parents, but" –

Edgar cut her off rudely. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't you dare assume anything about me and my brother. You know shit!"

"Edgar!" Max reprimanded him, his voice authoritative.

The boy glared at him. His eyes were full of hatred and defiance. "And you, let me not" –

He was interrupted by his brother, who put a hand on his arm in a calming gesture. "Edgar …please don't."

But Edgar brushed him off. "I'm not talking to you, Alan! You're one of _them_ now."

"You're one of us, too," Star pointed out to him, a doleful smile playing upon her lips.

"But unlike Alan, _I don't like it_!" Edgar yelled.

Max rose. "Edgar, that's enough." He would not tolerate such behaviour at his table. "You know I'm your legal guardian now, and I tell you: refrain."

"I don't care about legal!" the boy spit at him. "You've earned no right whatsoever to guardianship of any kind over us!"

"Be quiet!" Max seldom got angry, but now he felt his temper rise. He stepped beside Edgar, towering over him.

"Consider this a fair warning! No one is pleased with your behaviour. David's patience with you has worn down to practically zero. The Boys are all incensed by your attitude, and if you do not back down, I can guarantee for nothing. Do you understand? For nothing!"

Edgar jumped up from his chair. "Why don't you just do it? Do it already! I never wanted this! I would be glad if you killed me!"

Max felt his features shift. His fangs were out now. "Maybe I'll humour you!"

"Max!" Lucy called out to him. "Max, please … He's but a child …"

In spite of his anger, Max paused to contemplate Edgar. The boy was scared now. Yet he would not give in.

Max glanced around at the others. Alan was clearly as frightened as his brother. 'Don't …' his eyes silently pleaded with Max. Lucy looked at him beseechingly, too. She had risen from the table, her hands extended in a pacifying gesture. Her face was full of worry. Sam was gaping at him and Edgar open-mouthed, apparently at a loss for words or even sounds.

The only exception was Star. She was smiling bitterly and holding his gaze, which she usually avoided. There was something in her eyes that told him she had known all along – known that he was not so different from David, after all.

In the end, it was Star who caused Max to relent. He took a step back and let his features smooth over into human form again.

"Sit down, Edgar," he ordered, his voice controlled.

The boy hesitated a second, searching Max's eyes with his own. Then, haltingly, he complied.

Max took a chair as well. "This cannot go on," he stated, his voice firm. "You cannot continue this way. It is too dangerous. It will get you killed, and it may get all of us exposed. David told me that he cannot take you out for feeding, because you make a fuss and try to warn people. This will not do, Edgar. Either you adapt, and do it fast, or you die."

"I don't want to adapt," Edgar mumbled. He sounded distressed now. "I … I simply can't."

Max looked at him with gravity in his eyes.

"I know that it can be difficult." His tone was soft now, understanding. "I have been around for more than five hundred years, and I have sired many. Not all of them made it. Not everyone is cut out for this. I can only offer to help, but if you don't want me to, I can do nothing."

He paused. Edgar averted his eyes, fiddling with the fringes of the tablecloth.

Max tried again. "I am aware that it is not easy for you to stay with the Boys. We could accommodate you in my house. You know that there is a room ready for you. I can order Thorn to watch over Sam, so that he will be safe when you stay with us."

Edgar still would not look at him.

"I know what bothers you the most about our state of existence," Max continued. "But killing is not an absolute necessity – at least, as soon as one gets older and stronger-willed. Lucy, Star and I thrive mostly on donated blood. I have a business running that pays people for doing that. As you are new, you, as Lucy and Star, would still have to kill once in a while, for the thirst is not only for blood, but for life also. We could lower your body count considerably, though."

But Edgar shook his head. "I can't," he whispered. "I can't."

Alan looked pained. "Edgar," he said. "I don't want to give up on you."

Lucy rose and went over to Edgar, placing her hands on his shoulders. He tensed, but did not shake her off. "Edgar, love …" she said in a very gentle voice. "I'm sure we can sort this out somehow. We all like you … I'm sure no one wants you to die … You're so young …"

Ah, sweet, kind, delightful Lucy. How Max loved her …

She was wrong about the liking and not killing, though. If they could not manage to knock some sense into that stubborn head, it would eventually have to come off. Max could not tolerate anyone endangering his family.

 


	9. Lessons To Be Learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will be mean. I apologize to all Edgar fans.

Dwayne was sure: If Alan could still have blanched, he would have been white as a sheet.

"You're sure about this?" David asked. He was looking very serious.

Alan just nodded.

"Very well." David's tone was grave. "Then we'll do it. Though I say it again: It would be a kindness to kill him. He hates us, and he hates himself. He'll never accept what we are, and what he has become. If we don't kill him, he'll likely go into the sun or do something similarly stupid in the very near future."

Alan looked at him with apprehension. "I can't give up on him," he whispered. "He's my younger brother. We've always been together …"

Quietly, Paul stepped at their side. For once, there was no laughter on his face. "I brought Laddie to Lucy and Star. He will spend the night and the day there."

Michael, who had lingered in the background all the while, stepped forward now. His tone was uncharacteristically timid. "I don't like this. I don't like it at all."

"No one asked your opinion," Marko chided him. Like Paul, he was completely serious. No hidden smile, no sneer.

"Okay. Let's do it," David ordered.

They all slipped out of the shadows of the small cavern in which they had been conversing, and into the dim light of the main cave.

Edgar was sitting on the edge of the fountain. He had probably heard them. At least, he must have noticed that Paul had taken Laddie away. He looked up as they assembled around him.

"Finally made up your mind, have you?" he asked. His voice was bitter. His eyes were exclusively on Alan as he spoke. "Go ahead, then. Kill me. You'll do me a favour."

David shook his head. "We're not going to kill you. We're going to teach you a lesson," he said.

Edgar's expression became wary. "I don't need any of your shit!" he hissed.

"Yes, you do!" David growled at him. "You're in dire need of a lesson in repression!"

His hand shot out as he said that, grabbing Edgar by the scruff of the neck, throwing him off the fountain and down on his knees.

Edgar yelped and jumped up immediately.

"Stay down!" David roared, pushing him over again. "I'll teach you your place, damn it!"

"I don't want any of your teaching!" Edgar shouted, back on his feet again. "Fuck you, David! Fuck you! I'm not going to grovel before you!" He grabbed a plank from a pile of rubble and yanked it loose, then held it up, ready to defend himself.

David smashed it with one blow of his fist. He had Edgar by the collar now, crashing him viciously against the marble ledge of the fountain time and again.

"I've had enough of you! You're a pain in the ass! I'm not prepared to put up with your crap one more minute! Do you understand me? Stop moping! Get yourself together! And learn your place, damn it!" Each sentence was punctuated with a fierce thrust.

Dwayne was sure he heard bones break. Although they healed fast and easy, it was no fun to be manhandled like that. As David pushed Edgar once more to the floor, the boy's face was contorted with pain.

"Are you happy now?" Edgar groaned through gritted teeth. "Now that you hurt me? I tell you something: You can hurt me all you want, and you still won't force me into anything. I don't want to be part of your dirty little bunch of bloodsuckers! Do you catch on that? Or are you simply to dumb to grasp it?!"

Suddenly, David became a picture of complete calm. He took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You won't give in, will you?" he asked. His voice was like ice.

Dwayne had seldom seen him this angry and determined.

"No!" Edgar stated.

"And nothing I say or do will change that?"

"No!"

"Very well." David gave Edgar a taut smile. "We'll see. – Get him, Boys."

Though Edgar kicked and punched at them, they had him pinned in no time. Paul and Marko had his legs, Dwayne his arms. They hauled him over to the four-poster bed that had once been Star's.

Michael was hovering in the background again, clearly distressed.

Alan had not moved at all.

David came over with a bundle of rope. He took a knife out of his boot and cut the rope in parts, then proceeded to constrain Edgar, binding his wrists and ankles to the poles of the canopy.

"All comfy?" he asked as he was finished, leaning over Edgar and sneering into his face.

Edgar spit at him, hitting his target right on the cheek.

David said nothing. Slowly, he wiped off the saliva with one gloved hand. Then he smeared it on Edgar's lips, this time carefully staying out of spitting range. Afterwards, he hit the boy full force in the face.

Again, Dwayne was sure he heard the cracking of bones. Edgar moaned. There was blood on his mouth, a lot of it, actually, trickling slowly down his chin and into the cushions.

Sensing movement behind his back, Dwayne turned around. Alan was making for the entrance, trying to sneak out of the cave. He looked as if he was about to be sick.

"No chickening out!" David had noticed, too. "We're doing this for you, Alan, so that you can keep this nastiness of a brother. The least you can do is stay and watch."

With a defeated look on his face, Alan turned back and stood next to Dwayne.

David was taking his gloves off. He did it with deliberate slowness. "You won't comply?"

Edgar just shook his head.

"You sure?"

"Yes." The boy's expression was grim.

"I'd rather not do this, you know." David's tone was dead serious. "You won't like it," he warned. "Your answer's still no?"

Edgar nodded. His gaze was fixed on David's hands, following his every move.

"Alright. As you wish."

David turned, face contorting, fangs protruding. His glowing eyes locked with Edgar's. He bent over the boy, who was stretched out as if on an altar, extracted one of his claw-like fingers, and tore Edgar's shirt cleanly in half, cutting his skin deep in the process.

Edgar gave a strangled cry. Blood was seeping everywhere. Next to Dwayne, Alan made a noise that sounded like a sob.

David extended his hand again, aiming at the boy's crotch. He ripped his trousers down, leaving a bloody line on the inside of Edgar's right thigh.

This time, the boy was prepared and kept his mouth shut. He could not help grunting in pain, though.

David was still holding his eyes captive in a silent duel of wills. Apparently, Edgar was not giving in.

"You ask for this," David stated. In his vampire form, he looked like a deranged harpy as he hovered over Edgar, who was lying bound before him, almost naked and shivering from both the cold and the fear he clearly could not suppress, as much as he wanted to.

Dwayne threw Alan a sidelong glance. The kid was well aware of what would follow, for they had discussed it in advance. Nevertheless, Alan looked shell-shocked. He had hoped that it would not come to this, naturally.

David bent down again, then moved forward to kneel on the edge of the bed, towering over Edgar.

"Answer's still no?" David inquired. His tone was almost gentle. "You won't submit?"

"No," Edgar replied, glaring at him. He was obviously afraid, but he refused to back down, not even averting his eyes from David's.

"Suit yourself," David said.

He climbed between Edgar's legs and extended his hands, showcasing his cruel, razor-sharp claws. Then he bent forward and cut five parallel lines over the boy's chest, cutting down almost to the bones of his ribcage.

This time, Edgar screamed. It was an agonized, blood-curdling shriek that caused Alan to step forward as if to interfere.

Dwayne caught his arm and drew him back. "No," he said. "Stay."

He did not loosen his hold an Alan, both to keep him where he stood and to give him something akin to comfort. Dwayne liked Alan, he was an agreeable kid, and he was well aware of how much pain this was causing him.

David was continuing what he had started, cutting Edgar open with deliberate slowness, his attacks on his helpless victim interspersed with commands.

"Stop opposing me!” Cut. “Do as I say!” Cut. “Feed when I tell you to!” Cut. “Keep your trap shut!” Cut. “Leave your brother in peace!" Cut.

Edgar was visibly caving in. He had squinted his eyes shut, yet could not help the tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks. He was trying to buckle away, but the bonds were tight and did not allow him to move much.

"I can keep this up –“ Cut. “– for a pretty long time,” Cut. “– boy!" David exclaimed. "But, perhaps,” Cut. “– you'd rather –“ Cut. “– give in?" Cut.

There was no reply, but for a pained moan.

Michael was next to try to step in, but he was held back by Marko.

"Don't. You'll only make it worse."

Dwayne had never witnessed anything like this before. Sure, David could be vicious, but it took a lot to provoke him into anger – at least, as far as his pack mates were concerned. Sometimes, he would throw a punch or two, and, very seldom, use his claws for special emphasis. But not like this. Never like this.

Edgar was sobbing now.

"Are we finally there?” Cut. “Yes?” Cut. “Will you say it? “ Cut. “Will you say,” Cut. “I comply?” Cut. “Look at me!"

Edgar gave a huge sob. He bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. Another ferocious cut. Edgar's eyes flew open and locked with David's. Another cut. Edgar groaned loudly. Another. Then he wheezed: "I comply!", almost choking on the words.

David stopped immediately. He retracted his claws and changed back to his human guise.

Edgar was whimpering with pain.

Quietly, David rose and cleaned himself up, licking the blood from his hands and arms while watching Edgar intensely. He looked like the very picture of calm.

Edgar, on the other hand, was the very picture of devastation and defeat. His clothes were all in tatters, his skin was painted with blood and bruises, his face wet with tears. He tried to coil up, but his fetters did not allow him to move that much. He could do nothing but lie there, completely exposed, beaten and humiliated, and weep and wail – which he did.

"Ah, fuck," Paul at long last commented. He went over to Laddie's bed and took a blanket, then, after a questioning glance at David, threw it over Edgar's shaking form. Another glance at their leader, and he drew his switchblade, cutting the bonds. Finally, Edgar was allowed to curl up, and he promptly did.

David sat down on the bed again.

Instinctively, Edgar tried to scuttle away, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at David, fear in his eyes.

"You know your place now?" David asked, his voice soft.

Edgar nodded fervently.

"You will no longer defy me and my brothers?"

Edgar shook his head.

"No," he croaked.

"Good." David pulled his hand back, rose from the mattress and looked over to Alan, who was still held by Dwayne. "You may go to your brother now."

Alan hesitated. He stared at Edgar, too shocked to say anything. Then, haltingly, he stumbled over. "Edgar?" he whispered, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. His hand hovered over his brother's back, than, slowly, came down to touch him.

Edgar, who was hidden completely under the blanket now, jerked and ducked.

"Edgar, please ... It's only me, Alan ..."

"Piss off!" Edgar muttered, his voice sounding muffled from under the cover.

"Edgar …!" David warned.

A shudder ran through the boy. He said no more, allowing Alan to touch him, but tensing up like a coil spring under his hands.

"It might be better not to fondle him just now," David advised, lighting a cigarette. "He'll need some time to calm down. Perhaps you'd rather leave him alone for a while."

Alan paused, then proceeded to stand up. But as he did so, a hand shot out from under the blanket and grabbed him.

"Don't go away!" Edgar whispered. He sounded desperate.

"We're going to leave you alone and feed," David declared. "But I need a reliable person to watch over you, _ just in case _ …"

That was, of course, Dwayne's prompt. "I'll stay," he offered without hesitation.

"Why, thank you, Dwayne." David winked at him. If he said something along the lines of reliable or sensible, he was usually referring to Dwayne.

Tonight, Dwayne did not mind. He felt truly and honestly sorry for Edgar, and for Alan as well. The boy had irked him to no end, but now, as he seemed thoroughly shattered, he was forgiven – at least, as far as Dwayne was concerned. Provocation, punishment, submission, forgiveness – that was the common pattern of their pack. Only, usually, it did not go to such extremes. It surely had not where Michael was concerned. But, then again, Michael had knuckled down completely after his failed attempt to have them killed, and Edgar had received plenty of warnings beforehand. And the alternative would have been his death.

As soon as the others had left, Dwayne went over to Paul's stash of weed and fixed himself a joint. He lighted up and inhaled deeply.

Then he ambled over to the bed and sat down next to Alan. The lump under the blanket recoiled slightly as his weight sunk into the mattress.

"I won't touch you," Dwayne assured Edgar, passing the joint on to Alan.

The kid hesitated, then took a draft. Normally, Alan did not smoke, and especially not weed, but desperate circumstances called for desperate measures ...

Dwayne took the joint back, inhaled the smoke once again, then dangled it in front of where he assumed Edgar's face to be. "You should really try that," he said. "It helps. I promise."

After some seconds of hesitation, a hand sneaked out and smoothed part of the blanket aside. A sliver of Edgar's face became visible. It was still stained with blood and tears. Edgar looked wary, but snatched the joint out of Dwayne's fingers all the same.

The boy winced as he tried to sit up. The nasty cuts in his flesh were already healing, but they had been so deep that they still hurt like hell. "This is the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me," he declared, not looking Dwayne in the eye. Although he tried to make his voice casual and dispassionate, a slight tremble betrayed him. He took a deep draft, blew the smoke out and coughed.

" Well …” Dwayne began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “ He _did_ give you a choice.  And y ou know that he's not like this, usually … David and I, we've known each other for a pretty long time.  There are  still  some things about  him I do not know,  b ut I  _ do _ know that he'll never again  hurt  you like this, if you, from now on, choose to comply."

"I don't have much choice, now, have I?" Edgar said, sinking back onto the mattress, joint between his lips.

"No. But things won't be so bad around here once you loosen up a bit, and stop being an insufferable brat."

Edgar gave a short, strained laugh. "That's how I am. I can't help it. Probably enabled me to survive our parents and all ..."

"We're a band of brothers. You can trust us, you know."

Edgar laughed again. It sounded more like a bark. "I somehow find that hard to believe – notably after tonight's events."

"Yeah, but now, you're going to settle. Just mind your place in the pack, and it won't be bad at all. We're actually fun to be with – your brother can testify."

Alan smiled, though it seemed a bit half-heartedly. No wonder, under the current circumstances …

"Yeah, you are. You and Paul, that is. And Michael, if he's not pouting. Laddie's cute, of course. I'm not sure about Marko, though ... And David ... he still kinda scares me." He looked a bit sheepish.

"You gotta know Marko to really appreciate him," Dwayne said. "I wouldn't call him cute, though." He grinned. "And David ... yeah, he can be tough, but he'd die for each and every one of us. He's the most reliable person I know."

Edgar snorted.

"Of course, you don't want to piss him off," Dwayne added, snatching the joint from out of Edgar's fingers.

"How long have you known each other?" Alan asked.

"David and I? We've been together since 1910. First with Max, for a long time, actually. We split up with him in 1963, and met with Marko in 1967. Paul joined in 1983."

"How old were you when you were turned?" Alan was clearly curious now.

"Twenty-four. Based on the mortal life-span, I'm actually the oldest of us. Paul was twenty-three, Marko twenty-two. David was barely nineteen when he was turned by Max."

"Nineteen?!" Alan looked slightly shocked. "That makes him only three years older than me!"

"Yeah, but you have to add eighty years of unlife." Dwayne winked at him. "That would make him ninety-nine ... And I would be exactly one-hundred years old."

Alan seemed impressed. "Wow ... That's kinda weird ... but cool ..."

"Never grow old, never grow up.  _ Do what thou wilt ..."  _ Dwayne smirked. "That translates into 'Have fun!' for us." 

He began to prepare another joint, watching Edgar unobtrusively as he did so. The weed and the smalltalk seemed to do him good. He was visibly relaxing. His body was already healing, of course. In about an hour or two, he would no longer feel what had been done to him – physically, that was. The rest of him would probably remain shaken for a long time, though, and the repercussions were not yet conceivable. Dwayne sincerely hoped that he would never again forget his place, for that would definitely equal a death sentence.

"You want?" he asked, presenting the lighted joint to Edgar.

The boy hesitated a moment, then took it. "Our parents smoked themselves to high hell with this dirt – among other things," he commented, before taking a draft. "I actually can't remember a single day they weren't stoned."

"Neither can I," Alan confirmed. "I'm fifteen months older than Edgar, and I honestly can't recall ever not caring for him."

"Yeah, but I took over later, dipshit. You wouldn't have known what to do, if it hadn't been for me ..."

"No, I wouldn't, ya dork," Alan replied affectionately, giving Edgar a light, playful shove.

Dwayne was smiling quietly to himself. At long last, the brothers were getting along with each other again. It was possible that it was mainly caused by Edgar's desperate need to cling to someone or something familiar after the shock of what had just happened to him, but nevertheless – Alan was working with it, and it was a start. It had been a nasty business to subdue Edgar, and Dwayne was still not sure if it had been the right decision to do it the way David had chosen to. But, at least, it had brought Alan and Edgar together anew. And the alternative would have been a stake through the heart, an ax through the neck, and a bath in fire ...

Now that Edgar had given in, there was a chance to grow them all into a real pack. Finally. David would be pleased ... and so would Max.

   
  


 


	10. Into Your Flame

It had been exactly one year since the turning of the Frog brothers and Michael's and Laddie's final step into the night. Now, the Boys were out to celebrate. The Boys, in this case, meant eight people: David and his old gang, Alan and Edgar, Michael, and Laddie.

Alan had a driver's license now, and had achieved the permission to drive a motorcycle six weeks ago, so he was doing just that. Edgar was sitting behind him, engulfed in Alan's flapping black duster. Instead of his former military garb, he was wearing a dark brown leather jacket and black jeans. But he had not given up on his bandana. Tonight, it was red.

Laddie, as was his custom, rode with Dwayne. The boy was sporting an earring now that looked very similar to that of his favourite brother. The Frogs were wearing earrings, too. Edgar had had the audacity to tinker himself a wooden pendant that looked like a miniature stake, whereas Alan exhibited a tiny Superman figure.

They had left Santa Carla, and were speeding down the Highway to Los Gatos. They were many now, and they could not always feed at their home town, it would have been too suspicious.

On a parking lot at Lexington Reservoir, they spotted a minibus and lights at the lakeside. Perfect.

They parked their bikes and sent Laddie over to scout. The child was great, giving off an air of innocent sweetness even Star had not possessed when, back then, they had used her as bait.

After ten minutes, Laddie came back to report that there were twelve people, adults only, enjoying a late night picnic at the reservoir. To him, it looked like a kind of works outing.

David grinned and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. Pouting, Laddie straightened it back. He did not fancy to be treated like the child he still was.

David gave them all an appreciate once over. He was proud of his band of brothers.

"Ready?" he asked, his grin broadening. "Let's rock, Boys!"

The group of humans became instantly uneasy as they spotted what they likely supposed to be a gang of bikers. There were seven men and five women, mostly middle-aged. They seemed to be a boring company, probably office workers. Fortunately, that did not mean that their blood would taste as bland as their lives were.

They made their pick, quickly and wordlessly communicating with each other who would kill whom. One of the men rose, stepping protectively in front of the two youngest women. He was the boss, presumably. Now, he would be nothing but fodder for David. Since Laddie was far less strong then the rest of them, they left one of the women to him, a frail, anorexic looking creature, probably in her early thirties.

Laddie was the first to advance on the group. The mortals seemed anxious, but unsure. He was only a child, after all. But now, unlike when scouting, Laddie gave off a menacing air which simply could not be ignored. He smiled at the bunch of humans. The lights of their gas lamps reflected off his very white teeth. His eyes were ablaze with malice. Then he changed, the others followed, and all hell broke loose.

Dwayne attacked and grabbed his chosen prey. The bespectacled, nerdy guy screamed like a girl as sharp fangs descended into his neck. Since his meal flailed in his grasp, Dwayne missed the vein and had to try again. The guy fought back, and things became messy. Dwayne did not mind, though. He liked a bit of fun at the table. He even went so far as to let his grip slacken, so that his quarry could wriggle free, making a desperate try to escape. However, he did not get far. In seconds, Dwayne had him by the neck again, leering down upon him and listening with slight amusement to his desperate babble of pleas. Soon he became bored, though, and cut the nerds throat with a slash of his claws. The pleas drowned in a gurgle of blood as Dwayne plunged into the wound.

He always relished the kill. Each human was different. The taste, the colours …

Fading human life translated into colours for them. Children were like rainbows, beautiful beyond compare. Dwayne liked children, and it always enraged him if he discovered in feeding that someone had ruined their beautiful colours. Laddie had been tainted like this, his spectrum smeared with black and brownish red. It had made Dwayne furious.

This guy was mostly blue and grey. His life must have been severely lacking of passion – there was almost no red. The man's desperate, bubbling gulps for air intermingled with his frantic, irregular heartbeat, morphing into a symphony of dying. He made one last, feeble, and more reflexive than conscious attempt to break free. Dwayne gripped him harder, feeling something snap under his fingers. It was almost over now. They never lasted long, not when treated as roughly as this. One minute, two, perhaps three if you were lucky – and they unlucky, as it was.

Dwayne felt the guy's heart stumble and stutter to a halt. He drained the very last of his blood, then dropped the body and turned to look how the others were faring.

Laddie was feeding from the anorexic girl, having struck down upon her right where she sat. His whole face was covered in blood. He sensed Dwayne's gaze and looked up. His eyes were glowing like embers, but smiling, and Dwayne smiled back at him.

The boy got on reasonably well. Max had been wrong. They all had been. Laddie was not dependent on them. In a few years, he would be able to fend for himself. Dwayne sincerely hoped he would not leave, though. He loved his little brother with all his heart.

Next to Laddie was Paul, who had the second young woman by the throat. He was completely entangled with her, as if they were dancing intimately. For Paul, it seemed fairly civilized. But, then again, this was a woman. Paul usually went easy on women, whereas the men tended to end up in pieces.

Apparently, Marko was already into the second dish. His first victim, a male, was lying face down in the sand, no longer breathing. Now, he was teasing a plump little lady. Her bosom was covered in red, and he chased her around in ever smaller circles, his smile never leaving his face.

Alan was further down the beach with a young man. They seemed to be talking to each other, the vampire utterly composed, the human understandably agitated. Alan did that a lot. His victims usually gave themselves up to him without a fight. Of course, they all could have done it like that, considering the hypnotic powers they wielded. But where would have been the fun?

Like Marko, David was into his second meal, sharing with Edgar. The kid needed supervision, not because he was not able, but because he was still reluctant to kill. So, their leader kept him always close by his side when they went out to feed. David's first victim was a crumpled, bloodied heap lying a few feet from them.

Michael was a good distance away, chasing after two men who were trying to flee the scene, and Dwayne decided to join him. Along the route, he passed two unconscious humans. Someone had wisely knocked them out to keep them for later.

They soon caught up with their prey. Michael tore into his quarry with a vengeance, ripping his throat out and spilling blood everywhere. He was a messy eater. Dwayne had gotten himself a woman, a terrified, quaking, middle-aged creature. She stared at him with wide, half-crazed eyes, soiling herself as he seized her. A whimper rose from out of her breast, threatening to swell into a scream. "Shush!" Dwayne ordered and put a hand over her mouth. He went for the vein instantly, holding the writhing body in a death grip till it went limp.

Michael was done with his kill, too, so they went over to the others. There were still two humans left, unconscious, but very much alive, and smelling oh so tasty. They all shared, and the two were fortunate enough not to wake during the process. Someone must have hit them over the head pretty hard, presumably David or Michael.

It was time to clean up. They gathered the bodies and put them into the bus, arranging them neatly on the seats, shoveled bloodied sand into the water, and washed the grass clean with cans of beer and lemonade from the interrupted picnic. Everything the humans had scattered on the ground went into the bus, too. Then they set it on fire, taking cover and watching as it burned and, finally, the gas tank exploded.

As always, Alan and Edgar stayed silent, while the others hooted and hollered and danced in front of the flames. The Frogs called it showing respect to their victims. But what good did it do? The humans were dead, they would never know. It just ruined the atmosphere.

But since the brothers had, all in all, adapted fairly well into the pack, they let it slide. You could not force someone into having fun, after all.

XXX

Max awaited them on the front porch of his house. "Good evening, boys." He smiled at them affectionately.

As was his custom, he had insisted on a more civilized form of celebration of the first anniversary of Alan, Edgar, Lucy, Michael, Star and Laddie. The dining room was decorated with many candles, and all the fancy neon artworks Max loved so much gave it an eerie glow. Thorn and Nanook were sharing a dog basket in one corner of the room. There were two baskets, of course, but they liked to cuddle. Thorn had become considerably more relaxed since Sam and Nanook had moved in. He barely growled at Marko as he passed him.

Lucy, Star and Sam were already seated at the table, but Lucy rose to greet them individually as they entered the room. She went so far as to embrace each and every one of them and peck them on the cheek. They suffered it good-naturedly, by now well used to it. Alan and Edgar even seemed to like it. They had never had a real mother, after all, and, as far as Dwayne suspected and in contrast to the other Boys, always craved one.

Max served them wine which was interlaced with blood. His little donating company seemed to prosper. It was like drinking stale beer, though. Only the alcohol made it bearable.

Sam pouted as he was presented with a glass of grape juice instead. "I'm fifteen and a half! How come I'm not allowed to drink wine?"

"No alcohol until you're sixteen, young man," Max replied resolutely.

Marko chuckled.

Max stood and toasted them. "One year!" he said, letting his gaze wander over all of them in succession. "I am very proud of you, very proud indeed. All of the new ones made it through their first year, which bodes well for the future."

He paused.

"I am aware that, for some of you, it was not easy." His gaze was passing over Star, then lingering on Edgar, who averted his eyes. "But, nevertheless, you made it. You should be proud of yourselves, too." He was still gazing at Edgar, who, at long last, looked up to meet his eyes. "I would not want to miss any of you in my family," Max said, his voice soft.

Edgar replied with a taut smile, and Max nodded at him encouragingly.

Max's attention passed on to Laddie, who seemed a tad apprehensive. "Some of you have taught me that my assumptions are not always correct. In this case, I am glad that I was proven wrong." He was smiling at the child now, giving him an appreciative nod. Laddie seemed relieved, though the answering smile on his face was still wary. He was well aware that Max, initially, had not approved of the Boys' decision to keep him, and that he had even voted for his death.

"Some of you had old grudges to sort out. It seems that you succeeded in doing this, which pleases me well." His gaze was directed at nearly everyone in succession, excluding only Lucy and Laddie.

Then he addressed David and his old gang. "You took Michael back in, and made him one of you. You looked well after Laddie, and you helped Alan and, especially, Edgar, to come to terms with a kind of existence they feared and did not understand. You did great, Boys." He toasted David, Dwayne, Marko and Paul consecutively.

Dwayne thought that, had Max known exactly how David had "helped" Edgar to settle into the pack, he would not have been half as pleased with them as he seemed to be now. Then again, he pondered, Max might actually have a good idea of what had happened. He knew David well, after all, and he himself had told the Boys that it would be submission or death for Edgar. Max just did not care to hear the details. He liked to keep the picture perfect.

Max turned to Alan now, smiling warmly. "You tried very hard to adapt and to overcome your preconceptions. You were successful, I may say."

Alan seemed slightly embarrassed by the praise. In fact, his preconceptions were fairly intact. He just tried to go with the flow and not to think too much about it.

It was Edgar's turn again. The boy seemed even more uncomfortable than his brother to be in the spotlight of attention.

"Your way was the hardest." Max's tone was grave. Something seemed to shift in Edgar's eyes, as if he was shutting blinds to not let his feelings show. "I am not glad that it had to be like this, but I am glad that you are still with us. I know that you continue to struggle, and I hope that you will, eventually, find some kind of peace among us."

Edgar gave the tiniest of nods in acknowledgement, again not meeting Max's eyes.

"Lucy, dearest." Max's smile broadened till it threatened to split his face in half. "I love you with all my heart. You are more to me than I ever expected, and I could not have found a wife more kind or a mother more caring."

Lucy, who was sitting at his side, rose and pecked him on the cheek in reply, looking slightly exhilarated.

Paul was already fidgety, shifting in his chair and picking at the patches on Marko's jacket to keep his itching fingers occupied. Marko was long since used to it and bore it with stoic calm and a half-smirk.

"Sam, I know that life amongst us has sometimes been trying for you. But you do try, and, so far, it has worked out well."

Sam was grinning broadly at this, nudging his brother in the ribs as if to say: 'See? I told you he likes me …'

Dwayne wondered dispassionately whether, this time, Max had succeeded in keeping his hands to himself.

"Sam's even gotten himself a summer job," Max declared, obviously proud.

Yes, work, right. They had never understood why it was so important to Max, him being a rich, immortal vampire and all.

Dwayne noticed for the first time that the god-awful tie he was wearing tonight somehow matched the colours of Sam's dreadful shirt, and he sneered.

"He's working at your comic store during the vacation, boys," Max explained, addressing the Frog brothers.

Max and the Frogs had agreed to re-open the shop two months after their parents' untimely deaths. The official seal on the crime scene had been removed three weeks earlier. Since Alan and Edgar could no longer work at the store – if they did not want to endanger the lives of potential customers, that was –, Max had recruited two employees for them. The shop, though, was still theirs, and they sometimes visited at nights to leaf through the newest comics and to check the records.

Max turned to Star. "My dearest girl, I am most happy to say that you are part of the family now, a trusted and trusting friend to Lucy and me, and a sister to my Boys."

This was only half true. Star had sorted things out with Michael, was kind of friends with Sam, looked sometimes after Laddie, and got on fairly well with Edgar and, especially, Alan when they were visiting. She kept well away from David and his old gang, though – Paul excluded.

Said Paul was obviously bored. The others were, too. David was gazing pointedly at the ceiling. Marko was slapping Paul's hands away as they wandered somewhere he did not want them to, receiving a suppressed giggle in reply. Opposite them, Edgar was looking bugged and uneasy, sometimes exchanging quick glances with Alan, while Laddie was bouncing on his chair.

As Max continued to drone on and on about what he called his "close family", meaning Lucy, Sam and Star, and unwisely turned his back towards the Boys while doing so, Paul's hand sneaked into one of the snack bowls and came away with a sizeable amount of peanuts. He gained Alan's attention by flicking a peanut at his head – that was, almost at his head, for Alan grabbed it out of the air, grinning. Paul, enthusiastic as always, threw the next peanut at Edgar while still staring straight at Alan, and Edgar, caught unawares, received a direct hit on the nose. He drew a face, then grabbed into the bowl himself. He could not score, though, for Paul was much too fast and snatched each and every one of his projectiles right out of flight.

Dwayne watched their exchange, slightly amused, until Laddie decided to join in and managed to flick a peanut at his brow. Neither David nor Marko wanted to be left out after that, and, in seconds, the peanut fight was in full force.

Further down the table, Sam, Star and Michael were desperately trying to keep straight faces, while Lucy noticed absolutely nothing, her doting eyes only on Max.

Suddenly, Max's tone of voice changed from praising to chiding. "I know what you're doing!" He whirled around, but there was a smile on his face. "You all clean up together, now!"

Groaning, they began to pick the peanuts up, throwing them back into the bowls. That was, the ones which hadn't been eaten by Nanook and Thorn, who had both hurried over as soon as the first edible object hit the floor.

Max was rubbing his hands, looking pleased. It was not only because of their compliance in cleaning their mess up, of course. Dwayne knew for certain that Max was simply glad that they, eventually, all seemed to get along with each other, even Edgar joining in their playful fight.

Max had no idea, however, that they could never let Edgar off the hook. He needed constant supervision, lest he harm himself and, in doing so, his brother as well. In addition, even after nearly a year, he jumped almost to the ceiling if David so much as accidentally brushed his shoulder.

David had been right: It would have been kinder to kill him. But, because of Alan, that was out of the question. So, Edgar had to put up with it all, and they tried to ease it for him as best as they could. He was, after all, their brother.

"Well," Max said, as soon as everything was tidied up again. "Now we have to talk about resources. We are currently twelve, and that is far more than Santa Carla can support. It was already almost impossible not to raise suspicion when we were only five. I know that, nowadays, you Boys feed often far from our town, but this will not suffice. It can only work out if we control our urges and, for the most, thrive on donation instead of predation."

Paul made a gagging noise, and promptly received a stern look in reply.

"I am not joking, Paul. We have currently three FBI agents in town, and a lot more from the local forces exploring the deaths and disappearances in and about Santa Carla."

David leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the table. "You know that your way is not our way, Max. But with one thing you're right: It does become increasingly difficult to cover up the kills. We discussed this and decided that we might try a change of scene. Like, going on a holiday trip. We want to travel a country for a while where deaths and disappearances are more common and will not raise that much suspicion."

Dwayne added: "We thought Mexico, perhaps, or South America in general. Colombia and Guatemala seem especially promising, considering the current political situation. People are dying there left, right and centre every day. We would barely make an impact."

David looked over to their youngest brother, who appeared a bit apprehensive, and smiled at him. "We'll take Laddie along, of course. But Michael wants to stay. Alan and Edgar have not made up their minds, yet. "

"Actually, we'd rather stay," Alan declared. He seemed pretty timid. "If it might be possible, that is …" He looked questioningly at Max.

Edgar said nothing, his gaze fixed on one of the modern paintings on the wall. He was so tense that Dwayne half expected him to burst.

There was a second of hesitation. Max exchanged a quick glance with Lucy, then plastered his smile back on his face and extended his arms in welcome. "Of course it is possible! You know your rooms are waiting for you. Lucy and I would be delighted! Sam would be, too, wouldn't you, Sam?"

"Sure thing! That'd be awesome!" Sam was grinning broadly at the Frog brothers. He, at least, seemed genuine.

"I'd be very happy if you let me take care of you," Lucy said. Her eyes were chiefly on Edgar. "You've been missing a true mother for far too long."

At that, Edgar actually looked at her. He did not reply, but there seemed to be a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

Star simply smiled at Alan, causing him to almost splutter his wine and quickly look away in embarrassment.

"Well, that's settled, then," Max declared affably. "Wonderful!"

He turned to David, Dwayne, Marko and Paul. "So, my wild ones will soon be on the road again," he stated. His smile was a bit melancholy. "I am going to miss you, Boys. I mean it."

"Don't worry." David smirked at him. "We'll always come back again. Santa Carla just wouldn't be the same without The Lost Boys, now, would it?"

XXX

**The end.**

  
  


 


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